THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

Ex  Libris 

Katharine  F.  Richmond 

and 
Henry  C.  Fall 


//jsf^-^PSfe 
*  «.  -.- 


fi Oi^-f\Xi^-^y(J-'  o"'    f  K*-*- 

- 

s. 


PERSIS    F.   CHASE. 


"There  lies  a  village  in  *  peaceful  vale 
With  sloping  hills  ami  waving  woods  around." 


BRATTLEBORO,   VT.  : 

FRANK  E.  HOUSH  &  Co.,  PUBLISHERS. 

1887. 


COPYRIGHT,  1887,   BY  PERSIS    F.    CHASE. 


F 
4-H 


M«>-t  of  the  following1  articles  appeared  in  the 
columns  of  the  Lancaster  (.jazctfc,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  some  of  the  sketches  which  were  published 
in  the  Portland  Transcript. 

It  i>  hoped  they  will  prove  acceptable  in  the 
more  pretentious  form  of  a  book,  to  the  residents 
of  the  town;  and  perhaps  those  whose  former  home 
was  in  this  locality,  but  who  have  wandered  far 
awav  from  this  pleasant  valley  among  the  'moun- 
tains, will  recall  the  scenes  of-  other  days  in  reading 
these  sketches;  and  the  summer  visitor  who  has 
found  health  and  pleasure  among  our  hills,  may  find 
in  the  drives  I  have  attempted  to  describe,  a  mem- 
ory of  happy  hours. 

PERSIS  Y.  CHASE. 

LAXCASTKR,  N.  H.,  1887. 


1066630 


•w  THE  DAYS  OF  AULD  LANG  SYNE  "  .    .    .    .  9 

F. MMO\S  STOCKWELL 14 

THE  DJUVE  TO  STOCKWELL  FARM 20 

MAJOR  JONAS  WILDER 23 

THE  DRIVE  TO  JEFFERSON 27 

THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  FIRST  CHURCH   ...  31 

THK  DRIVE  TO  NORTHUMBERLAND 37 

ZIBA  LINES 40 

THE  DRIVE  TO  SOUTH  LANCASTER 43 

RICHARD  EVERETT 48 

THE  DRIVE  TO  STEBBIN'S  HILI 52 

PHEBE    SPAULDING      55 

THE  DRIVE  AROUND  MT.  PROSPECT  ....  64 

OUR  "  BUNKER   HILL" 70 

THE  DRIVE  TO  EGYPT     . 72 

A  TRUE  STORY 76 

TICK  SOLILOQUY  OF  THE  OLD  ACADEMY  82 


8  Contents. 

THE  DRIVE  AROUND  THE  GORE 87 

THE  FARRAR  HOUSE  MYSTERY 91 

THE  DRIVE  TO  THE  TOP  OF  MT.  PROSPECT.  .     97 

GREAT  GRANDMA'S  CARPET 100 

THE  DRIVE  OVER  PAGE  HILL 106 

THE  OLD  CEMETERY  .  .  1 1 1 


£a  nega 


"THE  DAYS  OF  AULD  LANG  SYNE." 

IN  1825,  the  village  of  Lancaster  contained  34 
houses,  most  of  them  cheaply  built,  and  unpainted. 
There  were  two  taverns.  The  stage  tavern  at  the 
north  end  of  the  village,  kept  by  William  Cargill, 
standing  where  Jacob  Benton's  house  now  does. 
This  building  was  moved  a  little  farther  north,  and 
is  now  occupied  as  a  tenement  house.  The  other 
\\  us  the  American  House  kept  by  Samuel  White. 
This  building  was  partly  destroyed  by  fire,  and  has 
lately  been  taken  down. 

There  was  only  one  church  in  the  village,  a  large, 
unfinished  building,  standing  on  sand  hill,  about 
where  the  meeting-house  common  is  now.  The 
hill  at  that  time  was  very  steep.  A  number  of 
wooden  steps  led  up  to  the  meeting-house.  I  do 
not  think  our  village  forefathers  were  very  wise  in 
choosing  such  an  elevated  position,  for  on  a  sum- 
mer's dav  the  view  from  the  door  must  have  been 


io  The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book. 

so  beautiful  that  I  am  sure  some  were  tempted 
"  to  be  doorkeepers  in  the  house  of  the  Lord"  in- 
stead of  going  inside.  Parson  Willard  preached 
in  the  meeting-house  for  many  years  at  a  salary  .of 
$150  a  year. 

This  building  was  erected  in  1791,  when  there 
were  only  26  voters  in  town.  In  1846  the  old 
meeting-house  was  moved  down  the  hill,  to  the 
spot  where  it  now  stands,  and  has  since  been  known 
as  the  town  hall. 

There  was  a  Methodist  society  who  held  services 
in  the  court  house,  which  stood  where  Kimball 
Fletcher's  house  now  does.  The  room  was 
warmed  by  a  potash  kettle  inverted  on  a  brick 
arch. 

Some  prominent  lawyers  attended  court  here 
about  the  time  I  am  writing  of ,— Daniel  Webster, 
Levi  Woodbury,  Ichabod  Bartlett,  Joseph  Bell, 
among  the  number. 

Gen.  John  Wilson  was  clerk  of  the  Common 
Pleas  Court,  of  which  Arthur  Livermore  was  chief 
justice.  Adino  N.  Brackett  was  clerk  of  the  Supe- 
rior Court,  William  M.  Richardson,  chief  justice. 
Major  John  W.  Weeks  was  sheriff. 

The  jail  stood  where  the  present  one  does.  It 
was  built  of  heavy  hewed  timbers  of  elm.  It 


Tin-    /.nitcustcr 
• 
\\  us  used  for  53  years,  being  burnt  in  1858. 

A  little  red  gun  bouse  stood  where  the  1'nitarian 
church  now  does,  where  a  brass  cannon  was  kept, 
used  by  the  artillery  company.  The  postoffice  was 
kept  in  the  south-west  room  in  the  Fletcher  house. 
Samuel  A.  Pearson,  who  then  occupied  the  house, 
was  postmaster.  The  mail  south  went  out  twice  a 
week,  carried  in  a  two-horse  wagon,  and  was  three 
davs  in  reaching  Boston,  stopping  at  Haverhill  the 
first,  and  Concord  the  second  night.  The  mail  was 
carried  to  Colebrook  once  a  week,  to  Bethel  once  a 
week  on  the  way  to  Portland,  b\-  a  man  on  horse- 
back. 

The  physicians  were  Benjamin  Hunking,  Elipha- 
let  Lyman  and  Jacob  Stickney,  who  went  their 
rounds  on  horseback,  with  the  saddlebag  containing 
their  medicine  swung  across  the  horse's  back. 

There  were  four  stores.  One  kept  by  Perkins, 
Eastman  <S:  Co.,  a  building  that  was  situated  where 
Irving  Drew's  house  is  now.  Another  kept  by 
Benjamin  Boardman,  in  what  is  now  known  as  the 
Rix  house.  The  other  two  were  at  the  south  end 
of  the  village,  and  kept  by  Samuel  White  and 
Reuben  Stephenson. 

The  stock  of  goods  kept  wJis  very  small,  the 
sale  of  liquors  making  an  important  part  of  the 


12  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

trade.  There  was  no  law  to  prevent  or  regulate 
the  selling  of  liquor.  New  England  rum  was  con- 
sidered essential  during  haying  and  harvesting.  Ci- 
der was  made  in  large  quantities  and  used  freely  in 
all  farmer's  families.  Ready-made  clothing  was 
unknown,  as  well  as  the  modern  machine-made  hos- 
iery for  underwear.  The  wool  and  flax  w7hich  ev- 
ery farmer  raised,  was  spun  and  woven  into  cloth 
by  the  busy  housewife  and  her  daughters.  A  tail- 
oress  went  from  house  to  house  making  this  cloth  into 
garments  for  the  men  and  boys. 

Women,  for  ordinary  wear,  used  home-made  cloth, 
spun  and  woven  by  themselves.  Flannel  for  winter 
and  linen  fabrics  for  summer.  Dresses  were  made 
very  plain,  six  to  seven  yards  of  cloth,  three-fourths 
wide,  was  considered  a  large  pattern. 

Every  fall  the  shoemaker  went  with  his  bench 
and  tools  to  each  house,  when  a  corner  of  the 
kitchen  was  given  up  to  him  until  the  family  were 
all  shod.  The  shoemakers  were  Samuel  Humux, 
an  old  Englishman  from  London,  Heber  Blanchard 
andjosiah  Smith. 

There  was  no  wheelwright  or  competent  painter 
in  the  place.  Judge  Lovejoy  and  Richard  Eastman 
were  house  carpenters.  Ephraim  Cross  manufact- 
ured hats  in  a  small  way.  Allen  Smith  was  saddler 


Tin-    Lancaster   Sketch    l*»<>k.  \  \ 

;iiul  harness  maker.  Warren  Porter  had  a  black- 
smith shop  opposite  his  house  which  is  now  occupied 
by  his  son. 

There  was  a  gristmill  and  saw  mill  at  the  Wesson 
place,  the  miller,  Squire  Darby.  Another  grist  mill 
stood  where  the  present  one  does,  Mr.  Greenleaf, 
.in  old,  white-headed  revolutionary  veteran,  being 
miller. 

There  was  a  clothing  mill  and  carding  works 
where  the  Freeman  mill  is  now. 

The  wages  of  laboring  men  was  fifty  cents  a 
<lav  and  board,  house  carpenters  and  most  mechan- 
ics commanded  one  dollar  a  day  and  board.  The 
tailoress  and  dressmaker  considered  twenty-five  cents 
a  dav  ample  remuneration  for  their  work.  Seventy- 
five  cents  a  week  was  all  the  most  competent  house- 
maid received. 

Only  a  few  remain  to  tell  us  of  the  old  days. 
Nearly  all  have  gone  "  the  way  of  all  the  world." 

Fifty  years  have  brought  great  changes,  not  only 
to  this  village,  but  to  all  New  England.  The  rail- 
road, telegraph  and  telephone,  and  innumerable  in- 
ventions to  facilitate  labor,  have  been  invented  with- 
in that  time. 

Progression  is  seen  on  every  hand — the  old  mak- 
ing way  for  the  new — which  is  as  it  should  be. 


14  77ie  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

"  Let  the  great  world  spin  forever  down  the  ring- 


ing grooves  of  change." 


EMMONS   STOCKWELL. 

Emmona  Stockwell,  the  subject  of  this  sketch, 
was  born  in  Petersham,  Mass.  As  he  was  bereft  of 
his  parents  at  an  early  age,  he  was  bound  out  to 
service  during  his  minority.  In  order  to  encourage 
enlistments,  a  regulation  was  made  that  indentured 
apprentices  should  be  entitled  to  their  freedom  if 
they  would  enlist  in  the  public  service.  Stockwell, 
although  very  young,  took  advantage  of  this  pro- 
vision which  gave  him  his  liberty.  He  was  in  one 
of  the  expeditions  which  went  up  for  the  invasion 
of  Canada  during  the  French  war.  On  returning 
from  this  expedition  he,  with  some  others,  came 
down  the  Connecticut  River,  and  for  the  first  time 
beheld  this  magnificent  valley.  A  few  years  later, 
remembering  the  great  natural  attractions,  he  de- 
cided to  return  and  make  his  home  here. 

His  glowing  account  of  the  Connecticut  valley 
interested  others,  and  in  the  spring  of  1764,  he 
started  with  Captain  David  Page,  David  Page,  Jr., 


77/c   Lancaster   Sketch    Book.  15 

ami  a  few  others  from  IVtcrsham,  to  seek  their 
fortunes  in  Northern  New  Hampshire.  The  whole 
country  was  then  a  dense  wilderness;  not  a  high- 
wa\  had  been  constructed  in  or  to  our  town. 

The  earlv  settlers  found  their  way  bv  marked 
trees  through  the  woods.  They  drove  before  them 
some  twenty  head  of  cattle,  with  bags  of  salt,  pro- 
visions and  farming  tools  fastened  to  their  horns. 
Thev  erected  their  first  camp  on  what  is  now  known 
;i^  Holton  meadow,  and  went  immediately  at  work 
to  clear  some  land.  In  a  short  time  they  had  twelve 
acres  planted  with  corn.  It  grew  so  rapidly  that  by 
the  25th  of  August  it  was  twelve  feet  high,  and  in 
full  milk,  but  this  fair  prospect  of  a  good  crop  of 
corn  was  entirely  destroyed  by  a  hard  frost  that 
came  on  the  26th;  but  perseverance  was  the  motto 
of  our  forefathers.  They  managed  to  keep  their 
cattle  through  the  winter  by  cutting  the  grass  on 
the  open  land  on  Beaver  Brook,  and  were  ready  to 
renew  the  struggles  of  another  year. 

The  nearest  mill  was  a  No.  4,  in  the  town  of 
Charlestown;  but  the  settlers  did  not  depend  upon 
food  transported  from  there  for  their  daily  use. 
Emmons  Stockwell  made  a  huge  mortar  which  held 
two  bushels.  Into  this,  corn,  beans,  and  rye 
were  put,  and  pounded  with  a  great  wooden 


1 6  'J^hc  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

pestle.  Cooked  potatoes  and  vegetables  were  mixed 
with  the  contents  of  the  mortar  and  the  whole  w as- 
baked  together.  This  composition  was  called 
"  thump,"  and  was  considered  a  delicious  dish,  so  I 
am  told. 

The  first  white  woman  that  came  to  Lancaster 
was  Ruth  Page.  Her  father,  Governor  Page,  so 
called  by  way  of  distinction  merely,  never  resided  in 
Lancaster,  but  was  a  sort  of  director  of  the  set- 
tlement, making  frequent  journeys  to  visit  the  new 
colony,  and  by  his  counsel  rendered  them  great  aid 
in  the  management  of  their  affairs.  Captain  David 
Page  and  son,  who  were  among  the  first  who  came 
here,  were  his  brother  and  nephew. 

In  August,  1764,  Governor  Page  started  from 
Petersham  on  horseback,  accompanied  by  Ruth, 
who  was  going  to  Lancaster  to  cook  the  food  and 
do  the  work  for  the  little  colony,  then  more  than 
forty  miles  from  their  nearest  neighbors. 

On  the  25th  of  August,  the  night  of  the  great 
frost,  Governor  Page  and  his  daughter  slept  in  the 
woods  in  Orford.  They  arrived  in  Lancaster  the 
last  of  the  month  to  find  the  little  colony  somewhat 
disheartened  by  the  great  calamity  that  had  befallen 
them,  but  were  no  doubt  much  cheered  to  know  a 
woman  had  come  to  make  their  homes  more  com- 
fortable. 


The  Lancaster  SAf/c/i  Book.  17 

Ruth  must  ha\o  IKK!  a  rather  nice  time,  notwith- 
standing the  rough  life.  There  were  no  other 
i,rirls  to  share  the  attention  of  the  young  men,  and 
when  Emmons  began  to  pay  attention  to 
her,  as  he  soon  did,  she  had  no  one  to  be  jealous 
of. 

The  next  year  after  Ruth's  arrival  in  Lancaster, 
she  was  married  to  Emmons  Stockwell,  and  began 
housekeeping  on  the  old  Stockwell  place.  A  part 
of  the  old  house  is  now  standing.  She  was,  at  the 
time  of  her  marriage,  eighteen  years  old,  and  he 
was  twenty-three.  Mrs.  Stockwell  was  a  woman 
of  great  determination  of  character.  She  had  won- 
derful general  capacity;  she  could  do  anything  that 
was  necessary,  and  did  everything  well.  It  is  said 
that  in  the  days  of  the  Revolution  she  was  the  sal- 
vation of  the  colony.  The  hardships  and  dangers 
which  surrounded  them,  the  capture  of  the  settlers 
by  the  Indians,  and  gloomy  prospects  of  the  country, 
somewhat  weakened  the  resolutions  of  the  settlers. 
They  met  at  Mr.  Stockwell's  house  to  discuss  the 
abandonment  of  the  town.  Mrs.  Stockwell  declared 
that  she  would  not  go  away ;  that  she  knew  no 
such  thing  as  failure.  Others  were  influenced  by 
the  decision  of  the  Stockwells,  and  the  settlement 
was  saved. 


1 8  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Mr.  Stockwell  had  a  vigorous  mind,  a  great  deal 
of  good  common  sense,  and  possessed  prodigous 
strength.  He  could  neither  read  nor  write,  until 
taught  by  his  wife.  For  many  years  there  was  no 
school  or  school  house.  Mrs.  Stockwell,  who  was 
a  very  good  scholar  for  those  early  days,  taught  the 
children  of  the  settlement  in  her  own  house.  The 
next  year  after  Mrs.  Stockwell's  marriage,  Edward 
Bucknam,  one  of  the  young  settlers,  married  a  sis- 
ter of  Mrs.  Stockwell,  who  had  probably  come  to 
make  her  sister  a  visit.  They  settled  at  the  mouth 
of  Beaver  Brook,  a  stream  that  runs  through  Mar- 
tin meadows.  A  hunter  who  caught  a  large  num- 
ber of  beavers,  which  abounded  in  this  stream,  gave 
his  name  to  the  meadows.  The  Bucknams  had  six 
children,  from  whom  have  descended  the  Moores, 
Mclntires,  Howes  and  Bucknams.  Their  oldest 
daughter,  Eunice,  was  the  first  child  born  in  the 
settlement.  It  was  a  long  time  before  any  traveled 
public  way  was  constructed.  Canoes  were  the  only 
carriages,  and  they  were  made  by  themselves  from 
the  trunks  of  great  trees.  The  women  could  row 
these  canoes  up  and  down  the  river  with  great  skill ; 
and  could  also  handle  the  rifle  and  fishing  pole  with 
expertness.  As  the  rivers  and  streams  were  full 
of  fish,  and  the  forest  of  moose  and  other  game,  the 


'/'lie   /.tr/ffiisfft-  SAt-tc/t   Book.  19 


tables  of  our  aiuvstm^  must  have  been  supplied  with 
something  besides  "  thump." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stockwell  lived  together  more  than 
liftv-tive  \  ears,  and  had  fifteen  children,  seven  sons 
and  eight  daughters,  all  of  whom  grew  to  maturity. 
Before  Mrs.  Stock  well's  death  she  could  number 
one  hundred  and  ninety  living  descendants.  She 
died  at  the  age  of  eighty-two;  her  husband  at  sev- 
enty-eight. David  Stockwell,  their  oldest  child, 
was  the  first  son  of  Lancaster. 

Edward  Bucknam,  whom  I  have  mentioned  be- 
fore, was  a  very  useful  man  to  the  new  colony.  He 
was  a  good  surveyor,  and  could  "  draw  teeth  "  and 
"  let  blood,"  and  perform  the  marriage  service.  He 
laid  out  a  large  portion  of  the  town  and  many  of 
the  highways. 

The  first  bridge  erected  in  town  was  the  old 
"  Stockwell  bridge,"  across  Israel's  River.  The 
right  to  cross  it  first  was  put  up  at  auction,  and  bid 
off  by  Emmons  Stockwell,  for  five  gallons  of  brandy 
which  cost  him  forty-two  shillings  a  gallon. 

The  prosperity  and  success  of  our  town  is,  no 
doubt,  owing  in  a  great  measure  to  the  fact  that  its 
foundations  were  laid  by  such  men  as  Stockwell  and 
Bucknam,  and  honor  and  gratitude  should  be  given 
to  the  memory  of  Ruth  Stockwell,  who  came 


2o  77ie  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

through  the  wilderness  to  aid  the  new  settlers,  and 
who,  by  perseverance  and  courage,  overcame  all 
obstacles  and  lived  to  see  the  "  wilderness  blossom 
like  the  rose." 


THE  DRIVE  TO  STOCKWELL    FARM. 

In  going  to  the  Stockwell  farm  and  through 
the  pine  woods  to  the  Northumberland  road,  we 
drive  to  the  north  end  of  the  village,  and  take  the 
road  to  the  right,  which  is  bordered  on  either  side 
with  tidy,  home-like  looking  houses,  the  yards  in 
front  bright  with  flowers,  and  far  away  to  the  right 
and  left  are  charming  mountain  views.  After  cross- 
ing the  rail-road  track,  we  turn  to  the  left,  which 
takes  us  directly  to  the  Stockwell  farm,  the  high- 
way ending  there.  We  pass  on  the  right  the 
Abbott  place,  and  what  was  formerly  known  as  the 
Barton  G.  Towne  farm.  These  farms  were  origi- 
nally settled  by  the  Pages. 

Adjoining  this  is  the  Stockwell  farm,  which  ex- 
tends to  the  bank  of  the  Connecticut  river.  The 
first  land  cleared  in  Lancaster  was  twelve  acres  of 
this  farm  near  the  river,  by  Emmons  Stockwell,  in 


The   Liiii  fatter   Skctfh    Hook.  21 

April,  176  ,  and  planted  \vith  corn.  The  broad  in- 
tervale that  stretches  away  in  undulating  swells  to 
the  river,  has  been  known  for  a  hundred  and  twenty 
years  as  the  "  Stockwell  Farm,"  and  occupied  since 
the  death  of  Emmons  Stockwell,  by  his  descend- 
ants. 

Driving  on,  we  pass  a  beautiful  grove  of  elms, 
and  just  below  stands  the  Stockwell  farm  house. 
The  low,  moss  covered  ell  connected  with  it  is  the 
tirst  frame  building  erected  in  Lancaster,  and  was 
the  home  for  many  years  of  Ruth  Stockwell,  the 
fust  white  woman  that  came  to  this  town. 

To  the  right  of  the  buildings,  which  stand  upon 
a  slight  elevation,  we  look  down  upon  a  grand  and 
extensive  meadow  view.  The  river  at  this  point 
makes  a  sweeping  curve  toward  Vermont,  leaving 
an  expanse  of  three  hundred  acres  of  green  intervale 
on  the  New  Hampshire  side.  A  most  charming 
background  for  this  green  valley  is  first  formed  by 
the  Connecticut  river  and  beyond  that  the  hills  of 
Vermont.  Nearlv  in  front  of  us,  rising  in  sy met- 
rical beauty,  are  Mt.  McClellan  and  Mt.  Rogers, 
whose  tree  crowned  sides  descend  into  undulating 
farms.  Driving  down  the  bank,  we  go  on  through 
the  meadow,  passing  fields  of  nodding  rye  and  oats, 
to  the  river,  whose  banks  are  gracefullv  fringed 


22  JYie  Lancaster  Sketch    Book. 

with  trees.  Turning  again,  we  drive  up  the  bank, 
passing  through  some  bars  on  the  left,  and  drive 
across  a  level  field.  We  are  now  on  the  old  road  to 
Northumberland,  but  long  since  it  ceased  to  be  a 
highway.  On  our  right  we  pass  the  agricultural 
fair  grounds,  beyond  is  the  Pilot  range,  flecked  with 
shadows,  and  still  farther  on  rise  the  familiar  out- 
lines of  the  White  Mountains.  We  soon  enter  the 
woods.  Is  it  not  delightful  ?  Take  long  breaths 
of  the  fragrant,  spicy  air,  for  "  our  pines  are  trees  of 
healing." 

Listen  to  the  sighing  breath  of  the  trees.  Henry 
Ward  Beecher  says,  "  the  first  pines  must  have 
grown  on  the  sea  shore,  and  learned  their  first  accents 
from  the  surf  and  the  waves;  and  all  their  posterity 
have  inherited  the  sound,  and  borne  it  inland  to  the 
mountains." 

The  friendly  boughs  seem  to  nod  welcome  to  us. 
On  either  side  is  a  wild  tangle  of  ferns,  dog  wood 
and  elder  blooms,  while  our  carriage  wheels  roll 
over  a  carpet  of  pine  needles.  All  too  soon  we 
emerge  into  the  sunshine,  and  turning  to  the 
right  find  ourselves  in  the  highway,  homeward 
bound. 

The  road  we  are  now  on  was  formerly  the  stage 
route  to  Groveton.  We  drive  into  the  village  by 


Tin-    /.a nfastcr   SAf/rA    Hook.  23 

Summer  St.,  getting  a  tint  view  of  Mt.  Prospect; 
tlie  road  \\ hiding  in  a  xig-xag  course  up  its  side,  is 
distinctly  seen  from  this  point.  We  soon  finish  our 
drive,  but  the  memory  of  broad  meadows,  moun- 
tain peaks  and  lovely  pine  woods,  will  remain  with 
us. 

Surely  the  variety  and  beauty  of  the  drives  in 
this  vicinity  cannot  be  surpassed;  whichever  way 
one  goes  "  they  cannot  err  in  this  delightful  re- 
gion." 


MAJOR  JONAS  WILDER. 

The  first  framed  dwelling  house  erected  in  Lan- 
caster was  the  large,  square,  flat-roofed  building,  that 
stands  at  the  north  end  of  the  village,  known  as  the 
"  Holton  house." 

This  house  was  considered  at  the  time  it  was  built 
a  very  elegant  residence;  the  finest  in  the  county. 
It  was  built  by  Major  Jonas  Wilder,  who  was  born 
in  Lyme,  Conn.,  on  the  22d  of  February,  1732. 
When  quite  young  he  went  to  Templeton,  Mass, 
where  he  resided  many  years.  In  the  course  of 
time,  reports  came  to  Major  Wilder  of  the  rich  land 


24  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

that  had  been  discovered  in  the  valley  of  the  Con- 
necticut in  Upper  Coos.  He  determined  to  go  and 
explore  the  region,  which  he  did.  On  reaching 
Lancaster,  he  was  delighted  with  the  natural  loveli- 
ness of  this  valley.  In  imagination  he  saw  the  broad 
meadows,  which  at  that  time  were  covered  with 
trees,  cleared  and  planted  with  corn,  the  river  gleam- 
ing like  a  band  of  silver  through  the  fresh  verdure, 
while  the  encircling  chain  of  mountains,  seemed  a 
fitting  frame  for  so  fair  a  picture. 

Major  Wilder  decided  to  go  no  farther,  but  bought 
a  mile  square  of  land  extending  from  the  "  Holton 
house  "  to  Israel's  river. 

He  then  returned  to  Templeton,  to  make  arrange- 
ments to  remove  to  Lancaster,  and  take  possession  of 
his  new  estate. 

In  Feb.,  1780,  he  started  from  Templeton  with 
his  wife  and  ten  children,  and  a  train  consisting  of 
two  family  sleighs,  four  lumber  sleighs  and  a  num- 
ber of  sleds  for  stores.  He  also  brought  along 
carpenters,  masons  and  glaziers,  and  everything  for 
building  purposes. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  they  were  in  reaching 
Lancaster,  but  probably  some  weeks.  A  small 
house  was  built  for  a  temporary  home,  near  the 
river  bank, — remains  of  this  building  can  still  be 


77/<-   Lancaster   Sketch    Hook.  25 

ii  the  Ilolton  meadow — and  some  land  cleared 
and  planted  with  corn.  On  the  I9th  of  May,  1780, 
memorable  as  the  "  dark  (iay,"  they  commenced 
digging  the  cellar  for  the  great  house,  hut  by  elev- 
en o'clock  it  became  so  dark  that  the  men  were 
obliged  to  discontinue  the  work. 

This  strange  and  as  yet  unexplained  phenomenon 
of  nature,  extended  throughout  New  England, 
and  created  great  disturbance  in  the  minds  of  the 
people,  and  caused  much  commotion  among  the  ani- 
mal creation.  The  fowls  went  to  roost,  the  birds 
suddenly  stopped  their  blithesome  singing  and  dis- 
appeared, the  cattle  returned  to  their  stalls,  lowing 
pitifully.  Candles  were  lighted  in  the  houses, 
and  everything  bore  the  aspect  of  the  darkest 
night. 

Many  were  convinced  that  the  end  of  the 
world  had  come,  and  betook  themselves  to  devo- 
tions. 

All  worldly  things  have  long  since  come  to  an 
end  for  those  who  witnessed  the  "  dark  day,"  but 
the  sun  has  shone  on  with  undiminished  splendor 
through  the  cycles  of  the  years. 

The  frame  of  this  house  was  raised  on  the  26th 
of  July,  1780.  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain 
the  exact  date  of  the  completion  of  the  building. 


26  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

As  there  was  no  church  built  until  the-year  1794, 
religious  services  were  held  at  this  house,  also  the 
town  meetings.  In  1780,  Major  Wilder  was  chos- 
en on  a  committee  to  select  a  public  burying  ground, 
he  presented  the  mound  known  as  the  "old  burying 
ground,"  to  the  town  to  be  used  for  that  purpose. 

The  first  grist  and  saw  mill  in  town  were 
built  by  Major  Wilder.  He  also  assisted  in  laying 
out  roads.  He  cleared  a  large  tract  of  meadow  land, 
where  he  raised  five  hundred  bushels  of  corn.  I 
have  been  told  that  this  land  was  so  rich,  that  for 
years  no  dressing  was  necessary,  and  what 
would  now  be  considered  of  great  value  was  thrown 
in  the  Connecticut. 

The  county  was  thickly  settled  with  Indians  at 
the  time  Major  Wilder  came  here.  He  was  noted 
for  his  hospitable  and  humane  care  for  them, 
and  was  rewarded  by  their  faithful  friendship. 
.  He  was  a  valuable  accession  to  the  new  settlement, 
and  has  left  a  record  of  which  his  descendants  may 
well  be  proud. 

Of  his  numerous  family,  only  one  great-grand- 
child is  living  in  town  at  the  present  time. 

He  died  in  1810  of  paralysis.  A  handsome  granite 
monument  recently  constructed  by  a  great  grand- 
son, Mr.  C.  O.  Baker  of  Portland,  Me.,  marks  the 
spot  in  the  old  cemetery  where  his  ashes  repose. 


/'//<•   Lancaster   Sketch   Book. 


THE   DRIVE  TO  JEFFERSON. 

The  White  Mountain  region  is  especially  delight- 
ful, affording  as  it  does  from  almost  any  point, 
charming  and  picturesque  drives. 

The  situation  of  Lancaster  is  particularly  favored 
in  this  respect.  In  any  direction  you  may  go, 

"  Aloft  on  sky  and  mountain  wall. 
Are  God's  great  pictures  hung." 

Perhaps  the  drive  to  Jefferson,  going  over  the 
"Jefferson  Mills  Road,"  and  returning  by  the 
"  north  road,"  affords  as  grand  a  view  of  the 
White  and  Franconia  ranges  as  can  be  had  in  this 
vicinity. 

We  go  up  the  sand  hill  and  leave  the  village  by 
Portland  St.  On  our  right  is  Holton  hill,  a  splen- 
did situation  for  a  summer  hotel.  The  road  is  as- 
cending most  of  the  way  for  the  next  mile,  which 
brings  us  to  the  top  of  "  LeGro  hill."  Before  we 
begin  the  descent,  let  us  stop  and  enjoy  the 
beautiful  views.  To  the  right  of  us,  to  the  left 
of  us,  and  in  front  of  us,  the  horizon  is  terraced 
with  mountains.  The  cultivated  uplands  in 
the  foreground,  are  golden  in  the  afternoon 
sunshine.  On  our  left  is  the  Pilot  range, 


28  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

broken  by  cones  and  peaks,  while  the  soft  clouds 
that  fleck  the  sky,  are  painting  the  mountain  sides 
with  shadows  of  every  imaginable  form  and  shape. 
Nearly  in  front,  the  whole  White  Mountain  range 
stands  massive  and  majestic,  the  pride  of  New 
Hampshire,  as  it  has  stood  for  thousands  of  years. 
The  gorges  and  ravines  that  channel  the  sides  of  the 
mountains  can  be  plainly  seen.  To  the  right,  the 
irregular  peaks  of  the  Franconia  range  are  distinctly 
outlined  against  the  blue  sky.  Who  can  behold 
this  mighty  chain  of  mountains  at  a  fitting  hour  in 
the  afternoon,  and  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
view  ?  The  grandeur  of  it  cannot  be  over  esti- 
mated. 

We  go  on  down  the  hill,  past  as  good  farming 
land  as  there  is  in  town,  but  the  stone  walls  that 
surround  some  portion  of  it  are  a  good  evidence 
that  the  soil  has  been  redeemed  from  rocks  and 
stones,  smoothed  and  enriched  by  indomitable  indus- 
try. Driving  briskly  along,  passing  some  pleasant 
and  comfortable  looking  homes,  we  arrive  at  the 
"  Mills,"  once  a  lively  little  business  place,  but  now 
reminding  one  of  the  "  deserted  village."  We  take 
the  road  to  the  left,  cross  a  rickety  bridge  and  are 
on  the  direct  route  to  "  Jefferson  Hill,"  a  pleasant 
shady  road,  with  some  quite  steep  hills.  We  soon 


The   Lancaster   Sketch   /AW'.  >cj 

vs  a  beautiful  maple  grove.  The  underbrush  has 
been  removed,  and  seats  arranged  beneath  the  dense 
foliage  of  the  trees,  affording  a  delightful  place  for 
picnics  and  gatherings.  By  the  look  of  some  of 
the  land  we  pass,  the  stories  of  sheep  having  their 
noses  sharpened  to  get  at  the  grass  between  the 
Atones,  can  be  easily  believed. 

Presently  we  come  in  sight  of  the  village  of 
"  Jefferson  Hill,"  and  can  distinguish  the  "  Waum- 
bek  "  house  quite  distinctly.  As  we  are  not  going 
to  visit  the  village,  we  will  take  the  turn  to  the  left 
and  are  on  the  North  road,  and  soon  come  to  an  en- 
tire change  of  scenery.  The  road  is  no  longer  hilly, 
and  quite  a  broad  sweep  of  level  land  borders  it  on 
either  side,  the  hills  that  lie  beyond  are  thickly  cov- 
ered with  trees.  In  the  Autumn  this  is  an  especial- 
ly delightful  drive,  then  these  hillsides  are  one  mass 
of  gorgeous  coloring. 

A  little  further  on,  a  stream  of  water  comes  rush- 
ing down  the  hillside,  through  a  green  pasture, 
where  a  flock  of  geese  are  giving  lessons  to  their 
young  in  aquatic  sports,  but  at  our  approach  stretch 
their  necks  and  hiss,  evidently  taking  us  for  ene- 
mies. Some  humane  persons  have  placed  a  wooden 
trough  at  the  roadside,  and  into  this  the  water  comes 
in  a  sparkling  stream,  into  which  our  horse  is  anx- 


30  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

ious  to  plunge  his  nose.  How  'he  seems  to  enjoy  it, 
drinking  so  heartily.  Then  he  lifts  his  head  and 
takes  a  look  down  the  road,  to  see  who  is  com- 
ing. Some  work  horses  turned  loose  in  an  adjacent 
field,  affecting  gayety  in  their  old  age,  attract  his  at- 
tention, but  we  remind  him  he  has  other  business 
to  attend  to.  Another  mile  brings  us  to  a  point 
where  the  road  diverges  to  the  right  and  left.  The 
one  to  the  right  leading  to  Gore  and  Groveton, 
the  left  is  our  way  home,  so  we  turn  that  way. 

Bray  Hill,  on  the  edge  of  Whitefield,  presently 
comes  into  view,  and  although  not  much  of  an  ele- 
vation, is  so  situated  that  both  the  White  and 
Franconia  ranges  can  be  seen  at  good  advantage 
from  the  summit. 

We  are  now  approaching  the  part  of  the  town 
known  as  "  out  east,"  where  some  of  the  most  de- 
sirable farms  in  Lancaster  are  situated.  The  houses 
are  comfortable,  and  some  quite  handsome,  with 
neat  and  tastefully  kept  yards  and  commodious 
barns,  which  indicate  that  prosperity  has  attended 
the  efforts  of  the  laborer. 

The  "  great  brook "  crosses  and  winds  itself 
through  the  green  fields  on  its  way  to  Israel's  river. 
The  sun  is  just  sinking  behind  the  Vermont  hills, 
tinging  with  a  rosy  light  the  Pilot  Range  and  Per- 


/'//<•   /.iT//C(is/ft-  SAc/i'/i  Book.  31 

cy  Peaks.  How  beautiful  it  is!  but  already  the 
shadows  are  creeping  down  the  mountain  sides,  re- 
minding us  that  we  must  hasten  home,  and  present- 
ly we  timl  ourselves  at  our  own  door,  bringing  with 
u^  pictures  of  mountains,  hills,  forest  and  field,  that 
will  live  in  our  memory  forever. 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  FIRST  CHURCH 
IN   LANCASTER. 

It  was  a  number  of  years  after  the  first  settlers 
had  found  their  way  to  this  pleasant  valley, and  had, 
by  such  hardships  as  only  the  pioneers  in  a  new 
country  can  experience,  made  for  themselves  homes 
by  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Connecticut,  and  on  the 
rugged  hill-sides,  before  they  could  raise  the  means 
to  build  a  church. 

Religious  services  had  been  held  in  private 
houses,  and  after  Major  Wilder's  handsome  man- 
sion was  completed,  it  answered  well  for  that  pur- 
pose. In  the  year  1791,  the  question  of  building  a 
"  meeting-house,"  was  considered  at  the  town 
meeting.  A  committee  of  six  was  appointed  to 
buy  six  acres  on  the  plain  above  the  sand  hill,  and 


32  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

inspect  the  clearing  of  the    same,    "  for    a  meeting- 
house plot." 

Later,  a  committee  was  chosen  "  to  propose  a  plan 
for  the  meeting-house."  After  due  consideration 
the  following  was  recommended:  "That  the  pews 
be  sold  at  public  auction.  That  each  person  give 
his  note  to  the  committee,  who  shall  be  authorized 
to  receive  the  pay  and  appropriate  the  same.  That 
each  person  be  subjected  to  the  following  method 
of  payment: — That  the  whole  sum  be  divided  into 
four  parts,  to  be  paid  the  four  next  succeeding  years. 
That  each  person  pay  six  shillings  and  eight  pence 
on  the  pound  the  first  year,  one  half  in  June,  the 
other  in  November,  the  rest  to  be  divided  into  three 
equal  parts,  and  paid  in  November  of  each  year. 
That  four  shillings  on  the  pound,  be  paid  in  cash, 
or  salts  of  lye,  and  the  rest  in  wheat  at  four  shill- 
ings per  bushel,  or  beef  at  seventeen  shillings  and 
six  pence  per  hundred  weight,  with  this  restriction, 
that  the  committee  shall  receive  each  man's  equal 
proportion  of  timber,  boards,  clapboards  and  shin- 
gles, if  good  and  merchantable.  That  each  person 
who  buys  a>pew,  shall  procure  sufficient  bonds  for 
payment,  and  his  obligation  shall  be  lodged  in  the 
hands  of  the  chairman  of  the  committee,  which 
shall  be  taken  up  or  endorsed  by  a  receipt  from  the 
committee." 


/'//<•  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  33 

These  conditions  were  accepted  by  the  people, 
and  the  following  men  were  chosen  "  to  build  the 
meeting-house:"  Col. Jonas  Wilder,  Capt.  John 
\\eeks,  Lieut.  Emmons  Stockwell,  Lieut.  Joseph 
Hrackett,  Lieut.  Dennis  Stanley  and  Capt.  David 
Page. 

It  was  nearly  four  years  before  the  church  was 
finished.  From  the  "  old  Town  Hall  building," 
which  is  the  old  "  meeting-house,"  one  would  not 
suppose  it  to  have  been  a  very  imposing  edifice, 
but  such  it  is  said  to  have  been.  Certainly  it  was 
a  prominent  feature  in  the  landscape,  standing  on 
the  brow  of  the  hill,  which  at  that  time  was  very 
steep,  like  some  grim  sentinel  keeping  watch  of  the 
little  hamlet  that  clustered  in  the  valley  below.  It 
was  built  with  a  steeple  at  one  end,  two  porches, 
and  a  broad  entrance  on  the  side.  There  was  a 
gallery,  a  high  pulpit,  with  a  sounding-board  sus- 
pended above.  The  pews  were  square,  and  the 
seats  arranged  so  they  could  be  raised  up  when  the 
congregation  stood  up  for  prayers,  making  more 
room.  When  the  minister  said  Amen,  the  clapping 
of  the  falling  seats  made  a  great  clatter.  A  long 
flight  of  steps  led  up  to  the  entrance  for  the  accom- 
dation  of  those  who  went  on  foot,  and  horse-blocks 
were  provided  for  the  mounting  and  dismounting  of 


34  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book, 

those  who  came  on  horse-back. 

There  was  no  provision  made  at  all  for  warming 
the  church.  Some  of  the  women  carried  foot  stoves, 
an  arrangement  of  sheet  iron  in  a  wooden  frame  in 
which  coals  could  be  put. 

In  1794,  the  question  of  settling  a  minister  was 
considered  at  the  town  meeting,  and  a  committee  of 
nine  persons  was  selected  to  "  draw  proposals  for 
the  settlement  and  salary  of  the  Rev.  Joseph 
Willard." 

At  the  next  town  meeting  the  following  report 
was  made:  "  To  give  Rev.  Joseph  Willard  fifty 
pounds  a  year  for  the  next  succeeding  three  years. 
This  was  to  increase  as  the  inventory  of  the  town 
increased,  till  it  reached  eighty  pounds.  To  be  paid 
on  the  first  day  of  March  of  each  year.  One  third 
part  paid  in  cash,  the  other  two  thirds  in  produce. 
On  condition  that  we  can  get  help  from  the  neigh- 
boring towns  as  we  now  expect." 

It  was  ascertained  that  the  town  of  Northumber- 
land would  pay  ten  pounds  toward  the  salary  of 
Mr.  Willard,  on  condition  that  he  would  preach  a 
proportion  of  the  time  at  that  place.  At  the  same 
town  meeting  that  the  arrangement  in  regard  to 
hiring  the  minister  was  made,  it  was  voted  "  to  raise 
twenty-six  dollars  to  be  laid  out  in  smoothing  the 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  35 

meeting-house  plot."  It  was  voted  to  pay  three 
shillings  ami  six  pence  per  day,  "if  they  found  their 
board  and  tools." 

On  the  iSth  of  September,  1794,  Rev.  Joseph 
Willard  was  installed  as  pastor  over  a  church  of 
twenty-four  persons,  and  continued  to  occupy  this 
position  for  twenty-eight  years. 

Those  who  remember  this  gentleman,  speak  of 
him  in  the  highest  terms  of  respect.  His  religious 
teachings  were  full  of  charity  and  love,  and  left  an 
abiding  influence  for  good. 

I  am  told  that  he  was  very  stately  and  dignified, 
with  something  of  a  military  air  which  he  had  ac- 
quired in  the  army,  and  a  thorough  gentleman  of 
the  old  school.  He  continued  during  his  life  to  ad- 
here to  the  fashion  of  knee-breeches,  shoes  with  sil- 
ver buckles,  and  carried  a  cane. 

"  He  was  a  man  to  all  the  country  dear 

And  passing  rich  with  fifty  pounds  a  year. 

Remote  from  towns  he  ran  his  godly  race. 

Nor   e're  had   changed,  nor  wished  to  change  his  place; 

But  in  his  duty  prompt  at  every  call, 

He  watched  and  wept,  he  praved  and  felt  for  all. 

He  tried  each  art,  reproved  each  dull  delav. 

Allured  to  brighter  worlds,  and  led  the  wav." 

The  following  are  the  names  of  the  ministers  that 
have  been  settled  by  the  Congregational  Society 


36  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

since  its  commencement,  as  far  as  I   have  been    able 
to  ascertain: 

Joseph  Willard,  Andrew  Govan, 

Luke  Spofford,  Buxton, 

Clark  Perry,  David  Perry, 

Stephen  A.  Barnard,  Isaac  Weston, 

E.  B.  Chamberlain,  Prescott  Fay, 

Henry  V.  Emmons,  C.  E.  Harrington, 

C.  E.  Stunner,  S.  A.  Burnaby. 
Jason  R.  Wheelock, 

The  names  of  the  deacons  were: 

Jonas  Baker,  Samuel  Phelps, 

Joseph  Wilder,  Reuben  W.   Freeman, 

Elias  Chapman,  Porter  Freeman, 

William  Farrar,  Edward  C.  Spaulding, 

Seth  Adams,  Azro  Burton. 
William  Freeman, 

In  1839,  tne  cnurch  that  is  now  occupied  by  the 
Congregational  Society  was  built.  The  good  and 
true  men  who  founded  this  church  among  the 
wilds  of  New  Hampshire,  have  all  passed  on  to 
"  another  country,"  but  the  church  and  society  have 
continued  to  increase  in  power  and  numbers,  as  the 
years  have  passed,  and  many 

"  Seek  by  the  path  which  their  fore-fathers  trod 

Through  the  land  of  their   sojourn — the   kingdom  of  God." 


Tin    Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  37 


THE  DRIVE  TO  NORTHUMBERLAND, 
RETURNING    ON    THE    VERMONT    SIDE    OF    THE  CON- 
NECTICUT RIYER. 

Some  pleasant  afternoon  in  June,  when  grass  and 
trees  are  wearing  their  first  freshness  of  summer, 
what  can  be  more  enjoyable  than  a  drive  to  North- 
umberland Falls,  returning  by  way  of  the  Vermont 
side  of  the  Connecticut  river? 

We  drive  to  the  North  end  of  Main  street,  and 
take  the  road  to  the  right.  Passing  the  jail,  we 
soon  see  on  our  left  Baker  Pond,  once  a  famous 
place  for  pickerel.  A  little  further  on,  a  curve  in 
the  road  affords  us  a  charming  meadow  view. 
Some  of  these  acres  of  broad  intervale  that  roll 
away  in  waves  of  "  living  green  "  to  the  banks  of 
the  Connecticut,  belong  to  the  Stockwell  farm.  We 
go  on  past  the  Fair  ground  and  "  the  old  Bellows 
place,"  and  soon  enter  the  cool  and  fragrant  pine 
woods,  where  only  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  sky  is 
ssen  above  the  rustling  tree  tops.  These  woods 
that  seem  so  delightful  on  a  summer  afternoon, 
was  the  place  where  once  a  robbery  was  attempted. 
Mr.  Hartwell,  a  gentleman  who  formerly  resided  in 
Lancaster,  owned  a  very  fine  horse  remarkable  for 


38  The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book, 

speed.  One  very  dark  night,  he  was  driving  down 
to  L.,  when  about  half  through  the  pine  woods,  a 
man  sprang  from  the  road-side,  caught  the  horse  by 
the  bridle,  and  presenting  a  pistol,  commanded  him 
to  stop.  Mr.  H.  struck  the  horse  a  hard  blow,  he 
gave  a  tremendous  jump,  threw  the  man  down  and 
was  off  like  an  arrow,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
robber,  before  he  had  regained  his  feet. 

A  very  eccentric  man  by  the  name  of  Ziba  Lines 
once  had  a  home  under  these  pine  woods,  where  he 
lived  many  years  a  hermit's  life.  I  am  informed 
his  seclusion  from  the  world  was  caused  by  a  disap- 
pointment in  love. 

As  we  go  on,  we  notice  on  our  right,  masses  of 
granite  rocks,  flung  up  in  vast  ledges,  their  sides 
mossed  over,  and  from  the  rifts  and  clefts,  bushes 
and  dwarfed  hemlocks  are  growing.  Now  we  pass 
on  our  left,  acres  of  level  meadow  land.  In  some 
places  the  green  turf  has  been  turned  over,  and  we 
conclude  from  the  number  of  thieving  crows,  flying 
near,  that  corn  has  been  planted  there. 

In  the  distance,  but  seemingly  directly  in  front  of 
us,  are  to  be  seen  the  twin  mountains,  known  as  the 
"  Percy  Peaks,"  whose  cone-like  tops  are  conspicu- 
ous from  almost  every  point  of  view.  Now  we  are 
approaching  the  little  village  known  as  The  Falls. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  39 

\\\  hear  the  hum  of  the  mills  along  the  river  side, 
;nul  see  great  piles  of  newly  sawed  lumber,  that  per- 
fumes the  air  with  a  piney  smell. 

Crossing  the  long  covered  bridge,  we  are  in 
Guildhall,  Vt.,  a  small,  but  pleasantly  located  vil- 
lage. We  drive  through  the  principal  street,  noti- 
cing the  comfortable  and  home-like  looking  houses. 
The  two  churches  stand  sociably  side  by  side.  An- 
other mile  brings  us  to  a  turn  in  the  road,  where  a 
charming  view  can  be  had.  On  our  left  we  can  see 
a  long  distance  down  the  river 

"  Not  unknown  to  classic  song, 

Which  still  in  varying  beauty  rolls  along." 

Not  a  ripple  disturbs  the  surface  of  the  water,  that 
with  mirror-like  exactness  reflects  the  trees,  that  so 
gracefully  fringe  its  banks.  On  the  right,  the  rolling 
hills  that  further  on  swell  into  rugged  mountains. 
On  we  go  with  the  river  on  our  left  all  the  way. 
In  some  places  the  trees  are  so  large  along  the 
bank,  that  we  get  only  a  glimpse  of  the  blue 
water.  Birds  are  singing  blithely,  as  they  flit  from 
tree  to  tree.  The  red  squirrel  runs  along  the  fence. 
Graceful,  feather-like  ferns  are  growing  in  great 
clusters  in  the  more  shaded  places.  Now,  we  are 
coming  to  the  Ames  place.  Where  can  a  finer 
meadow  view  than  this  be  seen?  The  river  takes  a 


4-O  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book, 

wide  circuit  toward  New  Hampshire,  leaving  a 
grand  expanse  of  intervale,  dotted  thickly  with  the 
graceful  meadow  elm.  Beyond  the  gleaming  of 
the  river,  Pilot  Range  perfects  the  artistic  finish  of 
the  picture.  From  this  point  until  the  toll  bridge  is 
reached,  a  fine  combination  of  river  and  mountain 
scenery  is  presented.  Those  who  think 

"  'Tis  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view, 
And  robes  the  mountain  in  its  azure  hue," 

will  enjoy  the  drive.  Crossing  the  bridge,  we  are 
in  the  Granite  State  again,  and  as  the 

"  Evening  shadows  are  displayed, 
Evening  damps  begin  to  fall," 

arrive  at  our  home,  delighted  with  our  drive  of 
twelve  miles. 


ZIBA   LINES. 

Doubtless  there  are  many  in  town  who  remem- 
ber Ziba  Lines,  who  had  a  small  house  situated  near 
the  place  where  the  house  now  occupied  by  Captain 
Beattie  is  standing. 

Mr.  Lines  came  to  this  town  from  Charlestown, 
N.  H.  He  had  been  at  work  for  a  number  of  years 
for  a  wealthy  man  in  that  place,  and  brought  quite 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  41 

a  Mini  of  money  here  with  him.  When  he  first 
came  to  Lancaster  he  was  fond  of  society,  and  used 
to  go  to  places  of  amusement,  and  as  he  had  consid- 
erable musical  ability,  was  quite  noted  for  singing 
songs. 

Probably  all  would  have  gone  on  prosperously 
with  Ziba,  had  he  not  fallen  in  love,  which, alas!  was 
not  reciprocated;  the  lady  would  not  listen  to  his 
suit,  and  he  was  unable  to  say,  "  Nay,  if  she  loves 
me  not,  I  care  not  for  her,"  but  brooded  over 
his  disappointment  until  he  became  a  hermit  and  a 
miser. 

He  bought  a  number  of  acres  of  land,  in  what  is 
known  as  the  pine  woods,  built  a  house  which  I 
have  mentioned,  where  he  lived  isolated  from  every 
one.  After  a  few  years  he  became  so  eccentric  that 
he  was  considered  almost  insane,  but  perfectly  harm- 
less and  quiet. 

At  one  time  he  invited  a  number  of  people  to  at- 
tend his  wedding,  requesting  the  minister  to  go  to 
the  home  of  the  lady  at  a  certain  time,  to  perform 
the  marriage  ceremony.  He  then  went  to  his  lady 
love,  whom  he  found  milking,  and  told  her  what  he 
had  done.  For  a  reply,  she  threw  the  milk,  pail 
and  all,  at  poor  Ziba,  and  ran  away.  I  don't  know 
how  the  milk  bath  affected  him,  but  probably  it  had 


42  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

a  quieting  affect,  as  after  that  he  turned  his  attention 
more  to  money.  He  got  all  he  had  exchanged  into 
silver,  and  kept  it  in  two  brown  earthen  pots,  that 
held  about  a  gallon  a  piece,  and  these  he  usually  kept 
buried  in  the  ground. 

One  Sunday  the  people  in  the  church  were  sur- 
prised by  seeing  Mr.  Lines  walk  up  the  aisle,  with 
these  pots,  one  under  each  arm.  He  deposited  them 
on  the  table  under  the  pulpit,  and  remained  standing 
near  until  the  service  was  over.  When  he  was 
asked  what  he  had  brought  the  money  to  church  for, 
he  replied  that  he  "  had  made  an  offering  of  it  to  the 
Lord,"  and  when  someone  offered  to  take  care  of  it, 
he  decided  to  do  so  himself.  He  then  carried  the 
pots  of  money  to  Mr.  Bellows,  who  lived  in  the 
house  known  as  "the  old  Bellows  house."  A  colored 
woman  was  living  in  the  family  at  that  time.  She 
got  an  empty  trunk,  and  in  this  Mr.  Lines  deposited 
his  treasures,  taking  the  key  away  with  him.  Some 
time  after,  the  trunk  was  opened,  and  found  to  con- 
tain only  stones.  No  one  knew  when  he  had  taken 
the  money  away,  but  it  was  ascertained  that  he 
went  on2  night,  carried  it  away,  and  buried  it  some- 
where in  the  pine  woods,  where  it  is  supposed  to  re- 
main until  this  day. 

Mr.  Lines  had  some  trouble  with  a  neighbor  about 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  43 

a  line  fence.  This  man  would  build  a  stump  fence 
that  would  require  two  yoke  of  oxen  and  two  men 
all  day  to  place  in  position. 

During  the  night,  Mr.  Lines  would  entirely 
remove  it  with  the  help  of  only  one  small  yoke  of 
steers. 

An  immense  chain,  weighing  two  hundred  pounds, 
was  used  by  his  neighbor  in  moving  the  stumps. 
One  night  this  chain  disappeared,  but  a  track  across 
a  plowed  field  to  the  river  bank,  indicated  it  had 
been  drawn  across  and  thrown  into  the  river. 
The  river  was  dragged,  but  the  chain  was  never 
found. 

A  few  years  ago,  Emmons  Stockwell  plowed 
this  chain  up,  when  he  was  breaking  up  some 
land.  Mr.  Lines  had  buried  it  as  he  did  his 
money. 

As  Mr.  Lines  became  old,  it  was  not  considered 
safe  for  him  to  live  alone.  There  was  a  guardian 
appointed  for  him,  and  he  was  removed  to  Page  Hill, 
where  he  died  a  victim  of  unrequited  love. 

THF  DRIVE  TO  SOUTH  LANCASTER. 

The  drive  to  South  Lancaster,  returning  by  way 
of  the  Vermont  side  of  the  Connecticut  river,  affords 


44  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

some  of  the  most  beautiful  meadow  views  in  this  vi- 
cinity. 

"  The  tasseled  maize,  full  grain  or  clover, 

Far  o'er  the  level  meadow  grows, 
And  through  it,  like  a  wayward  rover, 
The  noble  river  gently  flows." 

We  go  up  Baker  hill,  and  after  passing  several 
cottages,  come  to  the  two  story  white  house,  situa- 
ted on  a  hill  at  the  left.  This  house  is  now  occupied 
by  W.  H.  Hanson,  but  was  built  by  Parson  Willarcl, 
and  known  for  many  years  as  the  parsonage.  A 
little  further  on,  standing  on  a  hill  remote  from  any 
building,  we  notice  the  little  brick  powder  house,, 
formerly  owned  by  the  State,  and  the  powder  for 
the  guns  that  used  to  be  stored  in  the  old  arsenal,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  was  kept  there,  but 
since  the  old  militia  system  was  abolished,  the  arse- 
nal has  been  made  into  a  stable,  and  the  powder 
house  sold  to  R.  P.  Kent,  Son  &  Co.,  who  used  it 
for  storing  powder.  We  drive  along  what  used  to 
be  the  old  stage  road  to  Littleton.  Ah!  how  well 
we  remember  those  morning  rides,  long  before  day- 
light, in  the  lumbering  old  stage  coach,  with  Jim 
Pool  for  a  driver.  Surely  it  is  a  good  thing  that 
the  world  moves,  that  the  mai'ch  of  improvement 
has  rendered  that  twenty  mile  drive  to  reach  the 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  45 

•cars,  unnecessary.  We  pass  neat,  home-like  looking 
farm  houses.  On  the  right  are  the  broad  meadows, 
and  just  beyond  the  silvery  gleaming  of  the  river, 
are  the  cultivated  lands,  farm  houses  and  hills  of 
Vermont,  making  up  an  ideal  landscape  view  of  in- 
tervale, river  and  mountain. 

Presently  we  come  to  the  Brackett  hill,  and 
see  on  our  left,  the  old  brick  house  cosily  situated 
at  the  foot  of  it,  with  broad,  spreading  butternut 
trees  at  one  side.  \Ve  pass  the  bridge  over  the 
brook,  that  winds  in  and  out  with  many  a  curve, 
through  the  pasture  on  the  left,  and  a  little  farther 
on,  we  come  to  the  old  flat-roofed  house,  shaded  by 
elms,  formerly  the  home  of  Major  John  W.  Weeks, 
one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Lancaster.  Major  Weeks 
won  his  military  title  at  the  battle  of  Chippewa, 
being  promoted  from  Captain  to  the  rank  of  Ma- 
jor for  gallant  conduct  at  that  time.  The  road  is 
smooth  and  level,  we  drive  briskly  along,  getting  a 
glimpse  of  the  "  shining  river"  through  the  dense 
foliage  of  the  trees,  pass  the  little  brick  school-house, 
and  soon  come  to  the  "  White  farm."  From  the  pe- 
culiar curve  the  river  takes  at  this  point,  this  farm 
has  always  been  called  the  Catbow. 

Soon  after  the  revolutionary    war,    Major   Moses 
White,  of  Rutland,    Mass.,  was    rewarded  for    the 


46  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

honor  and  ability  with  which  he  had  filled  the  high 
position  in  the  continental  army,  to  which  he  had 
been  called,  by  receiving  from  the  government, 
through  General  Hazen,  this  tract  of  land  where  he 
fixed  his  residence,  and  passed  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  leaving  the  farm  to  his  descendants  at  his  death, 
by  whom  it  was  occupied  for  many  years.  On  we 
go  over  this  pleasant  river  road,  passing  farm  houses, 
ana  acres  of  meadow  land  on  the  right,  pastures 
and  cultivated  fields  on  the  left,  with  now  and  then 
patches  of  woodland,  until  we  come  in  sight  of  a 
railway  station,  and  a  few  other  buildings  at  South 
Lancaster. 

Turning  to  the  right,  we  cross  the  railroad  track, 
and  the  covered  bridge  that  spans  the  Connecticut, 
and  are  in  Vermont.  The  views  along  the  home- 
ward drive  are  unsurpassed.  From  the  brick  house, 
now  known  as  the  "  Rowell  place,"  formerly  owned 
by  Reuben  Benton,  to  the  "  Stone  farm,"  a  distance 
of  about  one  mile,  the  scenery  is  more  picturesque 
than  at  any  other  point  during  the  drive.  Here, 
for  a  long  distance  the.  Connecticut  is  seen  winding 
in  graceful  curves  through  the  broad  intervales. 
The  varied  tints  of  green  displayed  in  grass,  grain 
and  foliage,  all  bathed  in  the  golden  sunlight  of  a 
summer  afternoon,  make  a  picture  that  must  be 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  47 

seen  to  be  appreciated.  On  we  go  over  the  pleasant 
country  road,  sometimes  through  bits  of  woods, 
full  of  hemlock,  pine,  and  spruce,  that  perfume  the 
air  with  a  spicy  odor,  then  out  into  the  sunshine, 
where  we  see  the  regal  golden  rod  waving  its  plumy 
head  among  the  raspberry  and  blackberry  bushes  at 
the  roadside.  In  some  places  the  purple  aster  is 
beginning  to  fringe  the  way,  and  the  wild  clematis^ 
to  trail  its  graceful  vines  over  the  fences.  A  gold- 
en robin  is  perched  on  the  swaying  limb  of  a  tree  in 
front  of  us,  singing  a  merry  song,  and  the  meadow 
lark  skims  over  the  green  fields  rejoicing  as  he 
flies. 

Now  we  are  passing  the  "  Clark  farm,"  owned 
by  Deacon  Carlton,  and  presently  the  "  old  Hopkins 
place  "  comes  into  view,  now  the  property  of  the 
Rhodes  Brothers,  two  fine  specimens  of  Connecti- 
cut river  farms.  A  charming  back  ground  for  these 
broad  meadows,  is  formed  by  the  rich  rolls  of  culti- 
vated land,  on  "  Stebbins  hill,"  and  other  hills  that 
have  no  name.  Flashes  of  sunlight  turn  acres  of 
woods  on  Mt.  Prospect  and  Mt.  Pleasant  into 
patches  of  shining  satin.  The  White  mountains, 
Pilot  Range  and  Percy  Peaks,  that  now  seem  al- 
most in  front  of  us,  are  bathed  in  glorious  sunset 
hues,  of  rose  gold  and  purple ;  but  we  are  approach- 


48  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

ing  the  old  toll  bridge,  and  are  reminded  that  it  is 
almost  supper  time,  and  as  the  old  farmer  wisely 
remarked,  "folks  can't  live  on  scenery,"  we  rapidly 
finish  our  delightful  drive. 


RICHARD  C.   EVERETT. 

In  November,  1787,  a  little  party  of  emigrants 
might  have  been  seen  slowly  wending  their  way 
through  the  woods  toward  Upper  Coos. 

There  were  only  four  persons,  two  men  and  one 
woman,  and  a  little  child,  which  the  younger  of  the 
men,  who  was  about  eighteen,  carried  in  his  arms. 
The  other  man  led  a  horse  upon  whose  back  was 
fastened  a  heavy  load,  and  upon  his  own  back  was 
a  pack. 

The  names  of  these  persons  were  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Blake  and  child,  the  young  man  was  Richard  C. 
Everett,  who  afterward  became  the  first  lawyer  of 
Lancaster.  As  Richard  had  but  little  of  his  own  to 
carry,  the  baby  become  his  burden  instead  of  its 
mother's. 

On  the  1 9th  of  October  of  the  same  year, 
Richard  had  been  discharged  from  service  in  the 
revolutionary  war  at  Yorktown  among  many  others 
whose  services  were  no  long-er  needed. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  49 

Being  an  orphan  and  almost  without  friends,  he 
had  enlisted  two  years  previous,  when  only  sixteen 
years  of  age.  During  the  first  year  he  saw  much 
hardship  and  privation.  The  short  allowance  of 
food,  poor  clothing  and  hard  work,  soon  changed 
the  robust  and  healthy  boy  so  much,  that  even  his 
mother,  had  she  been  alive,  would  hardly  have 
known  him.  One  dav  he  was  sent  to  General 
Washington's  headquarters  on  some  errand.  The 
youthful  appearance  and  sad  condition  of  the  poor 
boy  attracted  the  General's  sympathy.  He  enquired 
who  he  was  and  why  he  was  there.  After  hearing 
his  story,  he  was  so  kind  as  to  take  him  into  his  per- 
sonal service,  where  his  duties  were  much  lighter. 
After  leaving  the  army  he  returned  to  Providence, 
his  native  place,  and  being  entirely  dependent  upon 
his  own  exertions  for  a  living,  was  looking  febout  for 
some  employment,  when  a  proposition  was  made 
him  by  Mr.  Blake,  with  whom  he  was  acquainted, 
to  go  with  him  to  Upper  Coos,  where  it  was  report- 
ed that  good  land  was  cheap,  and  emigrants  were 
wanted. 

This  Richard  decided  to  do,  and  the  little  party 
started  on  their  long  tramp  to  seek  their  fortune  in 
the  wilds  of  Upper  Coos. 

Weary  and  foot-sore,  this  little   band   were   over- 


50  The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book. 

joyed  when  just  at  night-fall  on  the  twelfth  day  of 
their  long  march,  they  saw  from  a  slight  eminence 
they  had  reached,  the  smoke  rising  from  some  log 
houses  in  the  valley  beneath  them,  and  knew 
they  had  at  last  arrived  at  Lancaster,  their  destina- 
tion. 

They  had  been  directed  to  go  to  Major  Wilder, 
who  promised  to  be  a  kind  of  father  to  the  new  set- 
tlers. He  gave  them  a  hospitable  welcome,  and  as 
he  had  been  wanting  to  get  some  men  to  draw  salt 
from  Portland,  before  many  days,  Mr.  Blake  and 
Richard  had  agreed  to  work  for  him  during  the 
winter. 

Before  they  could  commence  their  labors,  howev- 
er, a  road  had  to  be  made  through  the  Notch  suffi- 
ciently wide  for  a  sled  to  pass  through.  The  road 
at  that  time  being  hardly  more  than  a  foot  path. 
This  was  done  by  Mr.  Blake  and  Richard,  assisted 
bv  one  other  man. 

During  the  winter  Richard  saved  all  he  could  of 
his  earnings,  as  he  had  made  up  his  mind  he  would 
have  an  education.  Perhaps  Persis,  daughter  of 
Major  Wilder,  whom  he  afterward  married,  in- 
spired him  to  make  this  decision.  In  the  spring  he 
went  to  Hanover,  where  he  managed  by  hard  work 
and  economy  to  prepare  himself  for  college,  and  he 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  51 

determined  to  take  a  collegiate  course,  although  his 
resources  were  limited  to  good  health  and  willing 
hands.  Hut,  after  all  these  years  of  hardship,  the 
way  was  unexpectedly  opened  to  him.  One  day  in 
looking  over  a  Boston  paper,  he  saw  an  advertise- 
ment wanting  information  of  the  heirs  of  Richard 
Everett,  formerly  of  Providence.  Richard  knew 
it  must  mean  his  father.  lie  immediately  wrote  to 
the  address  given,  and  in  reply  was  informed  that 
he  must  go  to  Providence  and  prove  that  he  was 
the  son  of  Richard  Everett,  in  which  case  quite  a 
sum  of  money  was  ready  to  be  paid  to  him. 

This  he  did,  having  no  difficulty  in  proving  him- 
self the  rightful  heir. 

In  surveying  and  laying  out  the  city  of  Provi- 
dence, it  had  been  found  that  several  lots  of  land  be- 
longed to  Richard  Everett.  These  had  been  sold 
to  good  advantage;  so  Richard  found  himself  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  means  to  finish  his  education,  and 
have  something  left. 

After  graduating,  he  studied  law,  and  in  1793  re- 
turned to  Lancaster,  and  began  the  practice  of  his 
profession.  He  was  married  to  Versis  Wilder, 
December  7,  1793,  after  an  engagement  of  nine 
years. 

They  had  seven  children,  all  daughters,  none  of 
whom  are  now  livin<r. 


52  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Judge  Everett  built  the  house  known  as  the 
"  Cross  place,"  where  he  resided  until  his  death, 
which  occurred  on  the  22nd  of  March,  1815. 

He  was  successful  as  a  lawyer,  became  judge  of 
the  Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  afterwards  judge 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  which  office  he  held  for 
many  years. 


THE   DRIVE   TO  STEBBINS  HILL. 

The  view  from  Stebbins  Hill  is  one  of  the  most 
charming  in  this  vicinity. 

Driving  up  Baker  Hill,  and  along  the  river  road 
for  a  mile  and  a  half,  we  come  to  a  turn  on  our 
left,  which  we  will  take. 

The  road  soon  begins  to  be  ascending,  but 
smooth  and  hard.  Presently  we  come  to  the 
"  Emerson  place,"  formerly  owned  by  Captain  John 
Weeks,  who  was  the  first  to  settle  on  this  hill 
land. 

Perhaps  one  reason  for  choosing  this  high  land, 
was  owing  to  the  freshets  that  every  spring  delayed 
the  cultivation  of  the  intervales  until  frequently  as 
late  as  June,  and  perhaps  the  exceedingly  lovely 
view  from  this  hill  was  the  attraction. 

On  the  right,  a  short  distance  above   the    "  Emer- 


T/tc  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  53 

son  place,"  is  the  old  Mclntire  farm,  settled  by  John 
Mclntirc,  who  came  to  this  town  in  1794,  married 
for  his  first  wife  Sally  Stockwell,  daughter  of  Em- 
mons  Stockwell,  one  of  the  first  settlers  of  the  town. 
Mr.  Mclntire  was  quite  a  remarkable  man.  He 
could  neither  read  nor  write,  but  invented  a  method 
of  computing  interest,  and  "  dod  sir,"  was  his  fav- 
orite expression,  he  always  was  correct  in  his  cal- 
culations. He  accumulated  quite  a  large  property, 
which  he  divided  equally  among  his  sixteen  children 
before  his  death. 

On  we  go  still  up,  about  a  mile  above  the  Mcln- 
tire place  the  road  turns  to  the  left.  On  the  right, 
just  at  the  crown,  but  somewhat  back,  is  the  "Steb- 
bins  place,"  formerly  owned  by  Edward  Spaulding, 
who  was  the  son  of  Phineas  and  Phebe  Spaulding, 
who  settled  in  the  town  of  Northumberland,  in  the 
year  1769.  Mrs.  Spaulding  was  a  descendant  of 
the  famous  Mrs.  Dustin  and  was  a  woman  of  great 
courage  and  determination.  Edward  Spaulding  was 
brought  in  his  mother's  arms  from  Haverhill  to 
Northumberland,  through  the  wilderness,  alone, 
with  only  spotted  trees  for  a  guide. 

The  road  is  getting  prettv  steep,  but  a  few  more 
rods  brings  to  just  the  right  point  for  the  view.  The 
scene  is  beautiful  and  picturesque,  and  one  that  will 
live  in  the  memory  forever. 


54  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

The  windings  of  the  Connecticut  can  be  traced 
many  miles,  through  the  broad,  green,  beautiful 
meadows,  waving  with  grass,  and  grain  and 
patches  of  glistening  corn,  reminding  us  that  though 
among  the  beauties  of  nature,  the  hand  of  man  has 
added  something  to  its  charms. 

From  east  to  west  a  mighty  chain  of  mountains 
swells  gracefully  along  the  horizon.  The  most  dis- 
tant seem  to  touch  the  heavens  and  lose  themselves 
amid  the  clouds. 

Below  us,  cosily  situated  in  the  green  valley,  the 
houses  of  the  village  of  L.  gleam  white  in  the  af- 
ternoon sunshine. 

A  little  more  than  a  hundred  years  have  passed 
along  the  course  of  time,  since  how  changed  was  the 
scene ! 

The  same  river,  hills  and  mountains  were  here, 
and  will  still  stand  unchanged,  unchanging  through 
ages  yet  to  come.  But  yonder  village,  and  the 
comfortable  farm  houses,  surrounded  by  acres  of 
cultivated  land,  where  were  they? 

Lancaster  was  a  wilderness,  and  Indian  hunters 
strode  along  its  hills  and  valleys.  The  wild  deer 
lapped  the  water  of  the  river  that  flowed  sparkling 
through  the  meadows  beneath  us. 

Where  the  village  now  stands,  the  smoke  from  a 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  55 

few  log  cabins  of  the  first  settlers  curled    above   the 
trees  of  the  forest. 

Who  can  reflect  upon  the  changes  that  have  al- 
ready been,  without  turning  the  mind  toward  the 
future?  Slowly  we  drive  along,  reluctant  to  leave 
this  beautiful  prospect,  but 

'•  The  western  waves  of  ebbing  dav," 

remind  us  that  it  is  time  we  were  on  our  way  home. 
We  go  on,  descending  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side 
from  which  we  came,  and  soon  turn  into  the 
Whitefield  road,  reaching  the  village  by  way  of  the 
Sand  hill.  We  are  sure  that  all  who  have  seen  this 
view  from  this  hill  at  a  fitting  hour  in  the  afternoon, 
and  through  a  favoring  air,  will  agree  with  the  old 
gentleman  who  remarked  to  some  city  boarders,  "  I 
tell  'cm  if  they  want  to  see  scenyury,  Stebbins  hill  is 
the  place." 


PHEBE  SPAULDING. 

A  great  deal  has  been  written  in  a  general  way, 
of  the  hardships  endured  by  the  first  settlers  of  New 
England. 

When  we  read  of  the  Puritan  Fathers  landing  on 
the  "  stern  and  rock-bound  coast  "  of  Massachusetts, 


56  77ie  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

and  their  trials  and  privations,  we  are  filled  with 
wonder  and  admiration  at  the  courage  and  determi- 
nation displayed  by  them,  but  occasionally  there 
will  come  to  us  from  the  dim  and  distant  past,  tra- 
ditions of  courage  and  fortitude  borne  by  our  ances- 
tors of  a  later  day,  that  are  equally  as  wonderful. 

The  following  narrative,  which  is  true,  illustrates 
this  in  a  forcible  manner,  and  gives  us  some  idea  of 
what  the  women  of  that  early  day  endured. 

In  the  year  1769,  a  party  of  emigrants  started 
from  Londonderry,  in  the  southern  part  of  New 
Hampshire,  for  Upper  Coos  of  the  same  state,  the 
distance  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

Glowing  accounts  had  come  to  them  of  the  fer- 
tile lands  on  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut  that  could 
be  had  for  almost  nothing,  and  inspired  by  the  hope 
of  winning  a  home  and  perhaps  a  fortune  in  this 
unbroken  wilderness,  they  decided,  notwithstanding 
the  great  hardships  they  would  have  to  endure,  to 

go- 
Packing  bedding  and  a  few  household  utensils  on 

the  backs  of  horses,  and  each  with  as  much  as  they 

could  carry,  they  started  from  Londonderry  the  first 

of  May. 

Among  the  number  was  a  young  man,  Phineas 

Spaulding,   his  wife,  Phebe,  who  was  a  descendant 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  57 

of  the  famous  Mrs.  Dustin,  and  one  child  about  one 
year  and  a  half  old. 

They  had  not  much  to  take  with  them,  save  stout 
hearts,  and  plenty  of  courage  and  hope. 

The  one  precious  thing  Phebe  had,  was  a  copper 
tea-kettle,  that  had  been  brought  from  England  by 
her  mother,  who  was  dead.  This  kettle,  which 
would  hold  about  three  quarts,  was  packed  full  of 
packages  of  tea,  pepper,  spices  and  garden  seeds, 
and  was  altogether  too  valuable  to  be  entrusted  out 
of  her  hands;  so  she  started  with  her  baby  boy,  Ed- 
ward, in  her  arms,  and  carrying  the  tea-kettle,  to 
walk  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

She  was  a  small,  pretty  looking  woman,  with 
brown  hair  and  hazel  eyes,  and  possessed  wonder- 
ful power  of  endurance.  She  was  graceful  and  ag- 
ile in  her  movements.  I  have  been  told  that  when 
she  wished  to  mount  a  horse,  she  would  put  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder  and  jump  from  the  ground  to 
his  back. 

It  was  just  at  night-fall  on  the  fifth  day  after  this 
little  party  left  Londonderry,  that  they  approached 
the  small  settlement  of  Haverhill.  The  remainder 
of  the  way  was  through  the  wilderness,  where  their 
only  guide  would  he  marked  trees.  The  emigrants 
were  hospitably  entertained  bv  the  people  of  Haver- 


5  8  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book, 

hill,  and  were  urged  to  remain  a  few  days  and  rest, 
but  they  were  anxious  to  get  to  their  journey's  end, 
and  only  stayed  one  night. 

In  the  hurry  of  getting  started  the  next  morning, 
Mrs.  Spaulding  put  her  baby  on  the  floor,  while  she 
was  arranging  something,  and  he  being  left  to  him- 
self, crept  to  the  hearth  and  pulled  a  kettle  of  hot 
water  over,  and  before  his  mother  could  reach  him, 
his  feet  were  scalded. 

Of  course  this  accident  prevented  Mrs.  Spaulding 
from  going  on,  and  it  was  decided  after  a  consulta- 
tion with  others,  for  her  to  remain  a  few  days.  It 
would  be  necessary  for  some  one  to  return  to  Hav- 
erhill  for  some  meal,  so  Mr.  Spaulding  told  his 
wife  to  wait  patiently,  and  he  would  come  for  her 
as  soon  as  he  could.  Phebe  saw  her  friends  depart 
with  much  regret,  and  watched  them  until  they 
were  lost  from  sight  in  the  wood. 

It  proved  that  the  baby  was  not  very  badly  burned, 
and  Mrs.  Spaulding  was  sorry  that  she  had  not  gone 
on  with  the  others,  but  she  waited  as  patiently  as 
she  could,  until  the  time  had  passed  when  her  hus- 
band should  have  returned  for  her.  As  the  days 
went  by,  and  he  did  not  come,  she  resolved  she 
would  wait  no  longer,  but  go  on  alone. 

The  people  she  was  with,  endeavored  to  persuade 


77/r  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  59 

her  to  remain  until  her  husband  came  for  her,  but 
from  all  accounts,  Phebe  had  a  will  of  her  own,  and 
would  not  consent  to  remain,  but  started  with  her 
baby,  and  carrying  the  tea-kettle  and  a  good  supply 
of  food,  for  a  walk  of  fifty  miles,  through  a  dense 
woods.  Undaunted  by  fear  of  wild  animals  or  In- 
dians, she  marched  bravely  on,  her  only  guide  the 
spotted  trees.  Think  of  this  young,  but  plucky 
little  woman,  starting  with  a  helpless  baby  in  her 
arms,  and  knowing  she  would  have  to  remain  over 
night  in  the  woods,  to  walk  through  the  wilderness 
alone. 

On  she  went,  noticing  with  pleasure,  the  signs  of 
spring  on  every  side.  The  brown  buds  just  bursting, 
and  the  tender  green  leaves  peeping  out.  She 
thought  of  the  garden  she  would  have,  planted  with 
the  seeds  she  had  in  her  tea-kettle.  Then  she  would 
beguile  the  weary  way,  with  snatches  of  songs  or 
strains  from  some  old  hymns  she  had  heard  her 
mother  sing,  until  I  think  the  birds  must  have  hushed 
their  songs  to  listen  to  this  strange  music. 

Just  as  the  sun's  declining  rays  gave  warning  that 
the  day  was  almost  gone,  Phebe  came  to  a  pond, 
now  called  "  Streeter's  Pond,"  which  she  must  ford; 
concluding  to  wait  till  morning  before  crossing,  she 
began  to  look  around  for  some  place  to  spend  the 


60  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

night.  Presently  the  twisted  trunk  of  an  old  hem- 
lock caught  her  sight.  It  was  crooked  in  such  a 
way  that  it  formed  a  kind  of  cradle.  She  fixed  a 
bed  out  of  some  boughs  and  laid  the  baby,  who  was 
asleep,  in  this  novel  cradle.  Then  she  dug  a  hole 
in  the  ground  close  by  the  tree,  and  put  the  tea-ket- 
tle in,  covering  it  carefully,  so  the  Indians,  should 
they  come,  would  not  get  it. 

She  ate  her  supper,  and  laid  down  by  her  babyr 
not  meaning  to  go  to  sleep.  Long  she  lay  gazing 
up  through  the  branches  of  the  trees,  at  the  stars 
twinkling  in  the  sky,  and  listened  to  the  hoot  of  the 
owl,  and  screech  of  the  catamount,  but  her  walk  of 
twenty-five  miles,  and  carrying  the  baby,  had  tired 
her  so  she  could  not  keep  awake,  and  commending 
her  baby  and  herself  to  him  "  whose  eye  never  slum- 
bers or  sleeps,"  she  fell  into  a  dreamless  slumber. 

When  she  awoke  the  day  was  breaking,  and  the 
birds  had  already  commenced  their  morning  concert. 
She  arose  from  her  uncomfortable  bed,  feeling  lame 
and  unrefreshed,  but  thankful  the  night  had  been 
passed  in  safety.  She  ate  her  breakfast,  resurrect- 
ed her  tea-kettle,  and  was  soon  on  her  way.  She 
was  determined  not  to  pass  another  night  in  the 
woods  alone,  and  went  on  as  far  as  she  could,  only 
stopping  a  little  while  to  rest,  and  eat  her  dinner. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  61 

Just  at  dark,  when  she  was  beginning  to  think  she 
would  not  be  able  to  go  on,  as  she  could  not  see  the 
marked  trees,  the  path  began  to  widen,  and  as  she 
reached  the  top  of  a  hill,  she  almost  shouted  for  jov, 
for  in  a  little  valley  :>t  the  foot  of  the  hill,  were  a 
few  log  houses,  and  from  the  open  door  of  one,  she 
could  see  the  cheerful  gleams  of  firelight;  how 
pleasant  it  looked  to  the  chilled,  exhausted  woman. 
Pressing  on,  she  directed  her  steps  to  that  house, 
and  was  kindly  received  by  the  inmates;  from  them 
she  learned  that  she  had  reached  Lancaster,  but  her 
destination  was  six  miles  farther  on.  Gladly  she 
accepted  their  hospitality  until  morning,  when  she 
finished  her  journey,  arriving  at  Northumberland 
about  noon,  giving  her  husband,  who  was  just  mak- 
ing preparations  to  go  for  her,  a  great  surprise. 
Phebe  found  her  anxiety  had  been  needless.  Mr. 
Spaulding  bad  delayed  going  back  to  Haverhill  un- 
til he  had  put  up  a  rude  log  house,  so  Phebe  found 
a  home  awaiting  her,  and  they  were  soon  settled  at 
housekeeping.  Their  furniture  was  of  the  rudest 
kind,  all  being  home-made.  But  her  tea-kettle  sang 
just  as  cheerfully  on  her  humble  hearth,  as  it  had 
done  in  her  childhood's  home,  and  she  would  sit  be- 
fore the  fire,  holding  her  baby,  and  think  of  the 
time  when,  instead  of  the  woods  that  now  encom- 


62  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

passed  their  house,  fields  of  waving  grass  and  corn 
would  be  seen,  and  their  log  house  exchanged  for  a 
nice  framed  building. 

She  had  planted  her  garden,  and  already  the  seeds 
were  springing  up;  but  there  were  times  when  it 
looked  very  dark  to  the  poor  emigrants.  The  In- 
dians were  troublesome,  food  was  not  plenty, 
indeed  their  chief  dependence  was  upon  hunting 
and  fishing.  Some  of  the  party  were  anxious  to 
return  to  Londonderry,  and  Mr.  Spaulding  would 
have  been  easily  persuaded  to  have  done  so,  had  it 
not  been  for  his  wife.  It  is  said  that  she  was  set- 
ting out  some  cabbage  plants  in  her  garden  one  af- 
ternoon, when  some  of  those  who  wished  to  return 
came  to  talk  the  matter  over;  but  Phebe  put  her 
hoe  down  decidedly,  and  told  them  "  all  to  go,  every 
one;  she  never  would." 

She  felt  sure  it  only  required  patience  and  perse- 
verance, to  make  that  "  wilderness  blossom  like  the 
rose." 

It  happened  one  time  during  that  first  year,  that 
Mr.  Spaulding  had  gone  hunting,  to  be  gone  two 
or  three  days,  leaving  Phebe  and  the  baby  -alone. 
As  it  began  to  be  dark,  she  thought  she  would  take 
her  baby  and  gc  to  the  nearest  neighbor's,  which 
was  about  a  mile,  but  decided  she  would  not  be  so 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  63 

foolish,  and  going  to  the  door  to  close  and  fasten  it, 
six  Indians  confronted  her. 

They  had  approached  the  house  so  noiselessly  she 
had  not  heard  them.  Her  heart  sank  within  her  as 
she  saw  them,  hut  trying  to  speak  as  if  she  had  no 
fear,  she  inquired  what  they  wanted ;  they  informed 
her;  "  they  had  come  to  her  house  to  have  a  pow- 
wow." Prohahly  surprise  parties  had  not  come  in 
fashion  then,  and  Phebe  was  rather  embarrassed  at 
the  announcement,  but  knowing  that  she  must  not 
offend  the  Indians  by  refusing,  bade  them  come  in. 

They  seated  themselves  around  the  fire,  inviting 
Phebe  to  join  them,  and  not  daring  to  refuse,  she  sat 
down  with  them,  holding  her  baby  in  her  arms. 
The  Indians  had  plenty  of  "  fire  water,"  and  com- 
menced drinking,  passing  the  bottle  to  Phebe,  would 
say,  "brave  white  squaw  no  'fraid  drink  firewater." 
She  would  make  a  pretence  of  accepting  their  offer 
and  to  appear  as  if  she  was  not  frightened.  For 
hours  the  Indians  kept  up  a  perfect  bedlam,  until 
one  by  one  they  were  overcome  by  the  "  fire  wa- 
ter," and  sank  into  a  drunken  stupor.  Through 
the  whole  night  Mrs.  Spaulding  sat  there  holding 
her  child. 

In  the  morning  the  Indians  aroused  from  their 
sleep  and  crept  out  of  the  house.  Ever  after  that 


64  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Mrs.  Spaulding  was  considered  a  heroine  by  them, 
and  called  the  "  brave  white  squaw,"  and  they  ex- 
pressed their  admiration  of  her  behavior  to  them, 
by  bringing  her  presents  of  game,  fish  and  corn. 
Mrs.  Spaulding's  dream  was  fulfilled;  she  saw  the 
wilderness  disappear  before  the  ax  of  the  woodman, 
and  thrifty  farms  and  comfortable  homes  take  its 
place. 

She  lived  to  be  about  eighty,  leaving  many  de- 
scendants to  cherish  her  memorv.  The  copper  tea- 
kettle is  in  the  possession  of  a  great-great-grand- 
daughter, who  considers  it  one  of  her  household 
treasures. 


THE   DRIVE  AROUND  MT.    PROSPECT. 

Of  all  short  drives  in  this  vicinity,  the  one  around 
Mt.  Prospect  affords  the  grandest  mountain  views. 

We  drive  up  the  Sand  Hill,  and  along  the  Jeffer- 
son road  for  a  mile,  passing  on  the  right,  Holton 
Hill,  and  on  the  left,  getting  a  charming  view  of 
the  Pilot  range,  and  the  "outcast"  part  of  the 
town.  We  also  notice,  close  to  the  roadside  on  the 
left,  a  number  of  acres  of  smooth  green  grass,  slop- 
ing toward  Israel's  river,  whose  course  through  the 
narrow  valley  can  be  traced  by  the  trees  and  bushes 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  65 

that  fringe  its  banks;  this  land  is  quite  a  contrast  to 
the  rugged  rocky  pastures  on  either  side  of  it,  which 
are  samples  of  what  this  was,  before  the  rocks  and 
stones  had  been  removed,  and  built  into  the  sub- 
stantial wall  that  surrounds  it.  Just  in  front,  we 
get  a  grand  view  of  the  White  Mountains. 

Presently  we  arrive  at  a  road  leading  to  the  right, 
which  is  our  way.  We  now  have  Mt.  Pleasant  di- 
rectly in  front,  Mt.  Prospect  a  little  to  the  left  of  it. 
The  road  is  gradually  ascending  until  we  arrive  at 
the  "  Freeman  place,"  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  From 
this  point  we  get  a  most  beautiful  view  of  the  cul- 
tivated land,  extending  from  the  base  half  way  up 
the  side  of  Mt.  Prospect.  A  maple  grove,  enclosed 
by  a  stone  wall,  stands  stately  and  graceful,  among 
the  patches  of  corn,  vellow  rye  and  half  ripened 
oats,  and  above  all  the  tree-crowned  summit  of  the 
mountain,  making  a  ir.ost  perfect  landscape  picture. 
A  short  distance  beyond  the  "  Freeman  place,"  we 
turn  to  the  left,  and  are  on  the  direct  road  around 
Mt.  Prospect. 

How  delightfully  shady  and  pleasant  it  is!  What 
a  profusion  of  growth  there  is  about  us!  Moisture 
and  the  right  proportion  of  light  and  shade,  give 
here  the  best  conditions  for  the  growth  of  the  fern, 
which  can  be  found  in  the  woods  on  the  right,  grow 


66  The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book. 

ing  in  great  quantities  and  variety.  The  rare  spec- 
imen known  as  the  maiden  hair,  is  found  here  in 
abundance;  this  locality  is  quite  noted  as  the  only 
place  in  the  vicinity  of  Lancaster  where  this  fern 
can  be  found. 

As  we  go  on,  the  trees  on  either  side  increase  in 
size,  until  the  over  hanging  branches  almost  meet. 
The  birds  seem  to  think  the  top  of  these  swaying 
trees  a  splendid  place  to  practice  their  songs;  the 
"  dim  woods  "  ring  with  their  blithesome  singing, 
and  the  red  squirrel  runs  about  in  a  pert,  nimble  way, 
or  sits  up  to  nibble  a  choice  bit  he  has  found,  with 
his  tail  held  gi'acefully  over  his  back.  On  the  right, 
we  notice  among  the  trees,  masses  or  ledges  of  rocks, 
piled  in  some  places  to  a  considerable  height,  cov- 
ered with  beautiful  green  moss;  in  some  places  the 
rents  and  fissures  contain  soil,  from  which  shrubs 
and  even  small  trees  are  growing.  Emerging  from 
this  lovely  piece  of  woods,  we  come  to  a  breadth  of 
open  country.  On  the  left,  beyond  the  undulating 
acres  of  the  farm  now  owned  by  Mr.  Johnson,  but 
originally  settled  and  occupied  for  many  years  by  a 
man  known  as  "  Quaker  Eastman,"  we  can  see  the 
village  of  Jefferson,  with  Mt.  Starr  King,  rising 
above  it;  a  little  to  the  right  is  Bray  Hill,  and  tow- 
ering grandly  over  all,  are  the  White  and  Franconia 
mountain  ranges. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  67 

We  drive  on,  passing  on  the  right  a  brook,  that 
comes  hurrying  down  the  hillside,  as  if  in  haste  to 
join  the  "brimming  river."  Now  we  pass  on  the 
left,  the  *'  old  Lovejoy  farm,"  long  the  home  of 
Abial  Lovejoy,  father  of  John  Lovejoy,  a  former 
resident  of  Lancaster.  The  place  is  now  owned  by 
Mr.  Alexander. 

On  the  opposite  side  a  little  farther  along,  we  ar- 
rive at  the  Bucknam  place.  This  farm  was  settled 
by  Edward  Bucknam,  and  was  his  home  during  his 
life.  Mrs.  Sarah  Bucknam,  his  widow,  is  still  liv- 
ing in  the  old  home,  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety- 
seven,  and  is,  I  am  informed,  the  oldest  woman  in 
town.  She  retains  her  memory  in  a  remarkable 
manner,  and  can  read,  sew  and  knit,  as  well  as  many 
much  younger  women.  This  farm  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Jacobs,  a  son-in-law  of  Mrs. 
Bucknam.  The  quantity  and  quality  of  the  butter 
made  on  this  farm,  is  quite  celebrated. 

On  the  same  side  of  the  road  a  few  rods  beyond, 
we  come  to  the  old  Week's  place,  which  is  situated 
on  the  slope,  but  near  the  base  of  Mt.  Prospect, 
and  is  now  known  as  "  Prospect  farm."  This  place 
was  settled  and  house  erected  by  James  B.  Weeks, 
father  of  Judges  James  W.  and  William  D.  Weeks. 
In  what  used  to  be  the  kitchen,  the  original  fire- 


68  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

place  still  remains;  and  in  the  front  hall,  there  is  a 
stair-case  and  railing,  made  by  Judge  James  W. 
Weeks. 

In  selecting  this  situation,  on  which  to -build  his 
house,  Mr.  Weeks  certainly  displayed  a  taste  for 
grand  mountain  scenery.  There  is  not  a  spot  in 
town,  where  the  White  Mountain  and  Franconia 
ranges  can  be  seen  so  boldly  outlined,  as  from  this 
raised  plateau  in  front  of  Prospect  farm  house.  A 
broad  sweep  of  rolling  hills,  pastures  and  cultivated 
fields,  with  stately  groves  of  maple  and  dark  pine, 
stretch  away  for  miles  in  front  of  the  house.  Be- 
yond, on  the  left,  we  see  Jefferson  village  with  the 
Pilot  range  for  a  back-ground,  nearly  in  front  Bray 
Hill  and  Cherry  Mountain,  on  the  left  the  village 
of  Bethlehem  with  Mt.  Agassiz  just  beyond  it. 
Majestically  rising  above  all,  are  the  White  and 
Franconia  mountains,  at  just  the  right  distance  to 
display  the  confederate  strength  of  the  chain,  and 
mellow  the  gorges  and  ravines  that  channel  their 
sides  into  beauty  and  grandeur.  We  need  no  tele- 
scope to  enable  us  to  see  the  road  winding  up  Mt. 
Washington,  and  the  house  at  the  top  is  plainly  dis- 
cernable.  The  long  serrated  summit  of  Mt.  Lafay- 
ette is  seen  to  better  advantage  from  this  point,  than 
from  any  place  we  know  of  in  this  vicinity.  Many 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  69 

vears  ago,  there  used  to  be  a  beaver  meadow  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  road  from  this  house,  but  all 
traces  of  it  have  long  since  disappeared. 

Many  improvements  have  been  made  at  Prospect 
Farm  the  last  few  years  by  the  present  owner,  Mr. 
George  P.  Rowell.  Stones  and  rocks  removed 
from  the  land  and  built  into  substantial  walls.  Trees 
planted.  A  flower  garden  artistically  laid  out.  A 
beautiful  maple  grove  just  back  of  the  house  cleared 
of  underbrush,  and  with  hammocks  and  seats,  affords 
a  charming  retreat  for  a  summer  day.  Commodi- 
ous barns  and  out-buildings  have  been  erected,  and 
short-horned  cattle,  Shropshire-down  sheep,  and 
Berkshire  swine,  are  taking  the  place  of  the  com- 
mon stock. 

Reluctantly  we  turn  away  from  this  grand  view, 
and  drive  on.  We  are  now  on  the  opposite  side  of 
Mt.  Prospect,  the  road  winding  along  between  Mt. 
Prospect  and  Pleasant.  The  view  driving  down 
this  road  to  the  village,  it  is  down  all  the  way,  is 
very  lovely,  and  quite  different  from  the  prospect 
we  had  going.  We  now  see  broad  meadows 
extending  for  miles  toward  the  north  and  west, 
the  Connecticut  winding  in  graceful  curves  through 
the  green  verdure;  beyond  the  tree-crowned  hills, 
rise  the  mountain  ranges  of  Vermont,  the  hazy 


yo  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

summits  mingling  with  the  wonderful  blue  of  the 
summer  sky. 

The  houses  of  the  village  clustering  in  the  valley, 
the  red  roof  of  the  Lancaster  House  easily  distin- 
guished from  the  others.  The  tapering  church 
spires  pointing  upward,  and  all  illuminated  with  a 
golden  glow,  from  the  sun,  slowly  sinking  behind 
the  hills,  make  another  beautiful  picture  to  hang  on 
the  walls  of  our  memory. 

We  come  into  the  village  from  the  Whitefield 
road,  and  drive  down  the  Sand  Hill,  rattle  over  the 
bridge,  reaching  our  home  as 

"  All  the  sky  is  grand  with  clouds, 

And  athwart  the  evening  air 
Wheel  the  swallows  home  in  crowds." 


OUR  "  BUNKER  HILL." 

Probably  there  are  many  in  our  village,  who  are 
not  familiar  with  the  story  which  caused  the  hill  on 
the  left  of  Summer  street  to  receive  the  appelation 
of  «  Bunker  Hill." 

The  facts  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  name  are 
as  follows: 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  71 

Many  years  ago  there  resided  in  our  town  a  man 
of  great  muscular  strength,  who  from  his  youth  up 
had  been  the  conqueror  in  feats  of  strength  and 
wrestling  matches. 

The  Fourth  of  July  and  muster  days,  were 
occasions  on  which  he  displayed  his  prowess,  and 
won  his  laurels. 

One  fall,  when  the  annual  muster  was  in  progress 
on  Holton  meadow,  and  people  had  come  in  large 
numbers  to  witness  the  military  display,  this  man, 
whom  I  have  mentioned,  met  his  first  rival. 

There  appeared  that  day  upon  the  scene,  a  man 
of  splendid  physique,  young  and  agile.  He  had  re- 
cently returned  from  a  whaling  voyage,  and  alto- 
gether was  considered  quite  a  hero.  Very  jealously 
this  young  athlete  was  watched  as  he  displayed  his 
gymnastic  powers,  by  the  man  who  was  no  longer 
young,  but  who  until  to-day  had  born  the  palm 
of  victory  alone;  now  he  must  admit  he  had  a 
rival. 

It  was  suggested,  that  there  should  be  a  wrestling 
match  between  these  two,  but  the  older  man  decided 
that  was  not  the  place  for  a  real  trial  of  strength. 
Before  the  day  had  passed,  it  had  been  arranged  in 
a  confidential  manner  between  these  two,  that  they 
would  meet  the  next  morning  at  sunrise,  on  the  hill 


72  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

I  have  mentioned,  and  settle  which  was  the  best 
man  in  a  good  square  fight. 

It  chanced  that  a  boy  overheard  the  making  of 
this  arrangement,  and  before  sunrise  next  morning, 
many  a  stump,  stone  and  tree,  on  the  hill,  concealed 
an  expectant  spectator.  Punctually  the  men  arrived 
on  i he  spot,  and  a  hard  contested  battle  was  fought, 
resulting  in  the  defeat  of  the  veteran  of  so  many 
fights  and  wrestling  matches. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  boys,  who  burst  into  a 
loud  hurrah,  as  they  scampered  down  the  hill  to  tell 
the  great  news  that  Old  Blank  had  been  whipped  at 
last. 

Ever  since  that  morning  the  scene  of  this  contest 
has  been  called  "  Bunker  Hill." 


THE  DRIVE   TO  EGYPT. 

Of  the  two  beautiful  meadow  drives  in  this  vicin- 
ity, perhaps  the  one  to  "  Egypt "  through  the  Con- 
necticut river  meadows,  to  the  "  William  Weeks 
place,"  affords  more  variety  of  scenery  than  the  one 
to  the  "  Stock  well  meadows:"  however,  both  are 
most  charming  drives.  In  going  to  "  Egypt,"  we 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  73 

lea\e  the  village  by  the  Baker  Hill,  taking  the  sec- 
ond turn  to  the  right,  we  soon  pass,  on  the  left,  the 
old  arsenal;  being  no  longer  required  for  the  store- 
house of  war-like  equipments,  it  has  become  the 
peaceful  abode  of  Mr.  Streeter's  horse. 

Directly  in  front  is  a  beautiful  view  of  rolling 
meadows,  and  further  on  the  green  hills  of  Ver- 
mont. On  the  right  the  "  twin  peaks  "  stand  like 
sentinels  guarding  Cape  Horn. 

We  soon  arrive  at  a  point  where  the  road  diverg- 
es to  the  right  and  left.  The  left  is  our  way.  Just 
at  the  turn  we  pass  on  the  right,  on  a  sunny  hill- 
side, the  Catholic  cemetery.  We  are  now  on  the 
road  to  "  Egypt."  This  title  arising,  so  I  am  in- 
formed, by  the  failure,  many  years  ago,  of  the  corn 
crop  in  this  town,  save  that  which  was  planted  in 
this  vicinity,  which  grew  in  a  remarkable  way  and 
yielded  abundantly. 

As  the  people  were  obliged  to  come  here  for  corn, 
thev  were  probably  reminded  of  the  story  in  the 
Old  Testament  of  Joseph's  brethren  who  were  sent 
to  Egypt  to  buy  corn.  In  this  way  the  name  was 
acquired,  and  ever  since,  the  drive  in  this  direction 
has  been  called  "going  to  Egypt."  The  road  is  level 
and  smooth,  bordered  on  each  side  by  green  fields 
radiant  with  buttercups  and  elder  flowers. 


74  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

We  soon  come  to  the  "  Chessman  place  "  on  the 
right.  This  farm  was  first  settled  by  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Bruce.  Just  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
road  is  the  "  Brooks  farm." 

The  highway  ends  here,  but  by  the  courtesy  of  the 
owners  of  the  land,  people  are  allowed  to  drive  on 
by  the  bank  of  the  river  and  through  the  meadow, 
to  the  highway. 

On  our  right  the  shining  river  rolls  along,  its 
banks  o'erhung  with  alders  and  birch.  Just  on  the 
other  side  we  see  the  old  Hopkins  place,  now  owned 
by  the  Rhodes  brothers. 

Eighteen  noble  elms  stand  gracefully  grouped 
together  in  the  foreground,  making  a  beautiful  and 
conspicuous  featiu-e  in  the  landscape.  Long 
may  they  be  spared  from  the  relentless  ax  and 
saw. 

On  our  left  the  broad  meadow  rolls  away  for  a 
mile.  Dancing  shadows  of  light  and  shade  from 
the  great  banks  of  soft,  white  clouds,  that  float 
majestically  through  the  sky,  chase  each  other  over 
the  billowy  grass. 

Gradually  the  ground  rises  from  this  green  plane, 
and  we  see  the  farms  on  the  slope  of  Mt.  Pleasant 
and  Stebbins'  hill.  The  color  of  the  different  har- 
vests contrast  pleasantly  with  the  dark  green  of  the 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  75 

pine  trees  that  cover  the  hillsides.  Above  all,  Mt. 
Prospect  looks  down  like  some  patriarch  over  the 
wide  family  of  hills  settled  comfortably  about 
him. 

Far  away  to  the  west  the  horizon  is  framed  with 
hills,  the  most  distant  seem  to  touch  "  high  heaven," 
and  lose  themselves  amid  the  clouds. 

We  drive  on  through  this  sea  of  green,  ar- 
riving at  the  South  Lancaster  road  just  by  the 
«  Weeks  place." 

Turning  to  our  left,  we  are  on  the  way  to  the  vil- 
lage, soon  passing  on  our  right  the  "  Brackett 
place,"  and  on  the  left  the  farms  of  Messrs.  Hil- 
liard  and  Woodward,  formerly  owned  by  Rowell 
brothers. 

Going  along  another  mile  and  a  half,  we  see  the 
village  cosily  situated  along  a  level  plane,  just  un- 
der the  rim  of  the  hills,  presenting  from  this  view 
an  entirely  different  aspect  than  from  Sand 
Hill. 

From  the  top  of  Baker  Hill  we  get  a  fine  point  of 
the  White  Mountains  and  Pilot  range. 

This  drive  should  be  considered  one  of  the  most 
delightful  short  drives,  affording  ,  as  it  does, 
varied  and  charming  views  of  river,  meadows  and 
mountains. 


76  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

A  TRUE  STORY. 

The  following  incident  which  I  am  about  to  re- 
late is  true,  but  all  who  were  interested  in  the  oc- 
currence, save  one,  departed  many  years  ago,  on 
that  "  long  journey  from  whence  none  ever  return." 

No  doubt  all  who  are  acquainted  with  the  sur- 
roundings of  the  village,  have  noticed  four  very 
handsome  elm  trees,  that  stand  near  a  little  brook,, 
on  the  south-east  corner  of  the  lot  now  owned  by 
Parker  J.  Noyes.  These  trees  were  set  out  about 
seventy  years  ago,  by  a  woman  of  the  name  of 
Hart,  who  had  a  rude  little  cottage  near  there. 

No  trace  of  the  humble  home  remains.  The 
hands  that  brought  the  little  saplings  from  the 
woods,  and  planted  them  by  her  door,  have  long 
since  mouldered  into  dust,  but  the  trees  are  stand- 
ing, graceful  and  stately  monuments  to  her  memory, 
and  the  brook  still  chatters  over  the  stones,  singing 
as  it  goes, 

"  Men  may  come,  and  men  may  go, 
But  I  go  on  forever." 

In  the  year  1812,  there  was  living  in  Canada  a 
man  and  wife  by  name  of  Hart.  Their  home  had 
formerly  been  in  Massachusetts,  but  for  some  rea- 
son they  had  removed  to  Canada.  Mr.  Hart  had 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  77 

purchased  a  good  farm,  and  these  people,  who  were 
no  longer  young,  had  every  prospect  of  spending 
their  declining  days  in  comfort  and  prosperity,  but 
all  these  anticipations  were  destroyed,  by  the  declar- 
ation of  the  war  of  1812,  which  occurred  on  the 
1 8th  of  June  of  that  year. 

Soon  an  edict  from  the  king,  proclaiming 
that  the  property  of  all  the  citizens  of  Canada, 
who  would  not  take  arms  against  the  United  States, 
should  be  confiscated  to  the  crown.  Although  it 
must  have  been  a  hard  decision,  Mr.  Hart  did  not 
hesitate  to  relinquish  all  the  property  he  had, 
rather  than  espouse  the  cause  of  the  enemies  of  his 
native  land. 

Leaving  his  home,  he  started  with  his  wife  for  the 
States.  Having  relatives  residing  at  Jefferson,  X. 
H.,  he  decided  to  go  there ;  but  the  loss  of  his 
property,  together  with  bad  health,  so  preyed  upon 
his  mind,  that  within  a  short  time  he  became  insane. 
Mr.  Hart  lived  a  few  years  in  this  unfortunate  con- 
dition. His  wife  took  care  of  him,  and  did  what 
she  could  toward  their  support,  his  relations  assist- 
ing her.  After  his  death,  she  decided  to  go  to 
Lancaster  to  live,  hoping  to  get  more  work  to  do 
there. 

The  rude  cottage,  consisting  of  only   one  room, 


78  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

was  built  for  her,  on  the  spot  I  have  mentioned r 
and  she  took  possession  of  it,  living  there  a  num- 
ber of  years,  supporting  herself  by  spinning  and 
weaving,  receiving  gratefully  the  presents  of  food 
and  other  things,  that  kind  people  sent  her. 

Mrs.  Hart  was  a  woman  of  some  education,  and 
as  I  am  informed,  "a  good  Christian,"  believing 
firmly  in  the  teachings  of  the  Bible  ;  but  in  the 
course  of  time  she  grew  rather  eccentric,  living  so 
much  alone,  and  like  many  elderly  people,  dreamed 
dreams  and  saw  visions.  W'th  the  passing  years 
she  grew  very  infirm,  but  still  she  lived  on  in  her 
little  home,  though  she  seemed  to  be  too  aged  to 
be  left  alone. 

Some  may  inquire  why  a  poor  and  almost  help- 
less woman,  was  left  to  live  in  this  way.  In  those 
days,  there  were  no  comfortable  places  for  such 
people  to  go  to.  The  poor  were  put  up  at  public 
auction,  to  be  bid  off  by  the  lowest  bidder,  who 
was  to  board  them,  at  the  expense  of  the  town. 

Mrs.  Hart,  who  had  once  been  in  good  circum- 
stances, still  had  considerable  pride,  and  would  not 
consent  to  be  sold  at  auction,  like  a  bale  of  goods, 
or  live  stock. 

One  cold  morning,  late  in  the  fall,  a  boy  about 
twelve  years  of  age,  started  with  his  gun  on  his 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  79 

sin  miller,  for  a  walk  through  the  woods,  hoping  to 
fiml  some  partridges  or  other  game. 

As  he  came  in  the  vicinity  of  Mrs.  Hart's  house, 
he  could  hear  boys  laughing  and  shouting,  "  Why 
don't  you  get  up,  you  old  witch  ? "  Hastening  on, 
he  soon  came  in  sight  of  two  boys,  about  his  own 
age,  who  were  throwing  stones  into  the  brook,  and 
splashing  the  cold  water  upon  Mrs.  Hart,  who  had 
fallen,  in  attempting  to  dip  a  pail  of  water  from 
the  brook.  The  ground  being  frozen  and  icy  along 
the  bank,  she  had  fallen  in  such  a  way  that  her  feet 
were  submerged  in  the  water. 

Calling  out  to  the  boys  to  desist  in  their  cruel 
conduct,  John,  as  we  will  call  him,  ran  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  poor  old  woman. 

With  great  difficulty  he  got  her  up,  and  partly 
carrying  and  partly  dragging  her,  got  her  into  her 
house,  and  on  the  bed. 

Mrs.  Hart  was  so  exhausted,  with  cold  and  fright, 
that  she  could  hardly  speak.  John  saw  that  the 
fire  in  the  little  fireplace  was  out,  and  there  was  no 
wood  to  rekindle  it.  lie  went  out  and  collected 
some  sticks,  made  a  good  fire,  and  then  asked  Mrs. 
Hart  if  she  had  anything  to  eat  in  the  house.  She 
replied,  "  Not  much — some  potatoes."  Boys,  sixty 
years  ago,  did  not  have  much  money,  but  John  had 


So  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

a. silver  "  fo-pence  half  penny  "  piece  in  his  pocket, 
one  he  had  kept  for  a  long  time.  Telling  Mrs. 
Hart  he  would  soon  return,  he  ran  down  the  hill  to 
the  first  store  he  came  to,  and  exchanged  his  silver 
piece  for  some  "crackers.  These  he  carried  back  to 
the  old  woman,  whom  he  found  sitting  by  the  fire, 
trying  to  dry  her  wet  clothing.  Having  now  done 
all  he  could  for  her  comfort,  he  was  about  to  leave, 
when  Mrs.  Hart  raised  her  withered  hand  and  bade 
him  come  to  her.  "John,"  she  said,  "  remember 
the  words  of  an  old  woman,  whose  sands  of  life 
are  almost  run.  I  should  have  died  by  the  bi'ook- 
side,  with  the  laughter  and  jeering  remarks  of  those 
wicked  boys  ringing  in  my  ears,  had  it  not  been  for 
you,  but  it  has  been  my  death  blow.  I  want  you 
to  listen  to  what  I  am  about  to  say,  and  remember 
it  is  the  prophecy  of  a  dying  woman:" 

"I  see  you,  as  in  a  vision,  growing  up  to  manhood, 
respected  by  all.  You  will  become  prosperous; 
land  and  money  will  be  yours;  a  happy  home,  with 
wife  and  children  to  be  a  blessing  and  comfort  to 
you,  and  your  days  will  be  long  upon  the  earth; 
but  those  boys  who  saw  me,  stooping  with  age  and 
infirmity,  slip  on  the  icy  ground,  and  instead  of 
coming  to  my  assistance,  threw  stones,  and  derided 
me  with  laughter  and  scorn,  the  judgment  of  God 


T/ic   Lancaster  Stcfc/t   Book.  81 

will  follow.  A  comfortable  or  happy  home,  neither 
will  ever  have,  and  disgrace  and  ruin  will  follow 
their  footsteps.  You  will  live  to  see  this  fulfilled, 
and  remembering  what  has  happened  to-day,  air- 
knowledge  my  prophecy  proved  correct."  Mrs. 
Hart  uttered  these  words  in  a  very  impressive  man- 
ner. 

Soon  after,  John  left  the  cottage,  and  thought  as 
he  walked  away,  that  he  would  always  remember 
what  the  old  woman  had  said. 

He  was  a  poor  boy,  and  had  not  any  faith  that 
such  a  good  fortune  could  be  for  him.  The  next 
day  a  neighbor,  who  went  to  see  Mrs.  Hart,  found 
the  door  fastened,  and  receiving  no  answer  to  re- 
peated raps,  burst  the  door  open,  and  found  the  old 
lady  lying  upon  her  bed,  insensible.  Other  neigh- 
bors were  called  in,  and  the  doctor  sent  for,  but  all 
efforts  to  arouse  her  proved  unavailing.  It  was 
decided  to  move  her  to  a  more  comfortable  place. 
She  was  carried  to  a  house  near  by,  where,  within 
two  days,  she  died. 

More  than  fifty  years  have  passed  since  the  death 
of  Mrs.  Hart.  What  has  become  of  the  three  boys, 
whose  future  she  predicted?  Singular  as  it  may 
seem,  the  prophecy  has  been  fulfilled. 

One,  soon   after  reaching  manhood,  committed  a 


82  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

criminal  offense,  and  was  sentenced  to  a  long  term 
in  the  state  prison,  where  he  died  before  the  expir- 
ation of  the  sentence. 

The  other  grew  up,  worthless  and  dissipated, 
and  his  last  days  were  spent  in  the  poor  house. 

John,  by  hard  work,  economy  and  temperance, 
acquired  a  competence.  Is  now  surrounded  by  all 
the  comforts  of  life.  A  good  wife  and  children 
make  his  declining  days  happy,  and  he  is  an  hon- 
ored citizen  of  our  town. 


THE  SOLILOQUY  OF  THE  OLD  ACADEMY. 

Surely  this  is  a  world  of  change;  when  I  look 
back  over  my  past  life,  and  recall  all  I  have  been 
through,  I  wonder  there  is  an  original  board  left  on 
my  frame. 

It  seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  building,  to  experi- 
ence the  vicissitudes  that  I  have.  When  I  was  new ! 
Ah,  me!  how  long  ago!  I  stood  at  the  north  end 
of  the  village,  and  was  known  as  the  court  house. 
To  be  sure  I  was  not  a  very  handsome  building,  but 
many  far  more  elegant  edifices  have  not  sheltered 
people  of  the  talent  and  education  I  have. 

I  can  recall  with  pride,  the  names  of  Daniel  Web- 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  83 

i,  Levi  Woodbury,  Ichabod  Hartlett,  Joseph  Hell 
and  others,  whose  voices  have  been  heard  within 
my  walls. 

I  was  not  only  used  for  a  court  house, but  also  for 
religious  services  by  the  Methodist  society,  before 
their  church  was  built,  and  have  been  occupied  by 
the  Masonic  Fraternity.  It  will  not  do  for  me  to 
reveal  the  remarkable  scenes  I  have  witnessed  dur- 
ing their  meetings,  or  I  might  in  my  old  age  share 
the  fate  of  John  Morgan. 

After  a  number  of  years,  it  was  considered  neces- 
sary to  build  a  new  court  house;  about  that  time 
the  people  were  talking  of  starting  a  high  school, 
and  it  was  thought  best  to  convert  me  into  an  acad- 
emy. This  was  done,  and  for  several  years  I 
was  used  for  that  purpose  on  the  spot  above  men- 
tioned. After  a  while  it  was  decided  to  remove  me 
to  a  more  central  location;  accordingly  I  was  taken 
down  the  street,  to  the  spot  where  the  academy  now 
stands.  I  did  not  so  very  much  mind  the  journey. 
I  was,  comparatively  speaking,  young  then,  and 
rather  liked  the  idea  of  a  change. 

I  stood  the  trip  very  well,  although  I  must  admit 
I  got  a  pretty  severe  shaking,  and  was  very  glad  to 
get  settled. 

I  was  somewhat  enlarged,  new  desks  were  put  in. 


84  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

A  steeple  was  built,  in  which  a  bell  was  hung,  which 
is  now  on  the  graded  school  building. 

I  remember  with  pride,  the  large  number  of 
learned  and  accomplished  gentlemen,  who  taught 
the  school  during  the  years  I  was  the  "  academy." 
Every  day,  men  and  women  pass  me,  who  received 
most  of  their  education  beneath  my  roof,  and  many 
have  gone  forth  into  the  "  great  world,"  but  I  have 
no  doubt  memory  often  reverts  to  the  peaceful 
shades  of  this  village,  and- happy  school  days,  passed 
in  the  "  old  academy." 

With  the  passing  years,  I  became  old-fashioned, 
and  rather  dilapidated,  and  it  was  considered  best  to 
have  a  new  building  for  the  school;  so  I  was  sold 
to  a  society  known  as  "  Baptists,"  and  was  moved 
farther  down  the  street,  and  on  the  opposite  side. 
I  felt  sorry  to  leave  the  spot  where  I  had  stood  so 
long,  and  where  I  had  hoped  to  spend  my  days.  I 
was  then  completely  remodeled.  The  old  desks 
were  removed,  new  windows  put  in,  and  pews  made, 
an  alcove  and  raised  platform  were  built  at  one  end, 
on  which  a  pulpit  was  placed.  At  the  right  of  the 
pulpit  was  an  orchestra,  where  an  organ  was  put, 
a  carpet  was  laid  down,  and  church  furniture  put  in. 
I  felt  rather  proud  of  my  appearance,  when  all  was 
accomplished,  I  was  no  longer  the  "  old  academy," 
but  the  "  Baptist  church." 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  85 

My  prosperity,  however,  was  short-lived.  Meet- 
ings were  held  quite  regularly  for  a  while,  but  I 
conclude  from  what  I  overheard,  that  the  financial 
condition  of  the  society  was  rather  low.  They 
could  not  support  a  minister.  Occasionally  a  ser- 
vice would  be  held,  but  they  became  less  and  less 
frequent  and  farther  apart,  until  they  finally  ceased. 

Then  came  a  sad  period  in  my  life.  One  who 
has  been  useful,  dislikes  to  find  themselves  stand  for 
nothing  in  a  community.  I  was  occasionally  used 
for  temperance  or  prayer  meetings,  but  most  of  the 
time  I  was  left  lonely  and  sad,  with  plenty  of  time 
to  repent  of  my  vanity,  and  the  airs  I  had  assumed, 
at  being  converted  into  a  church. 

After  a  few  years  I  passed  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  Baptist  society,  but  still  remained  useless. 

One  day  I  was  aroused  from  the  stupid  condition 
into  which  I  had  fallen,  by  having  my  doors  and 
window  blinds  thrown  open.  Some  men  came  and 
commenced  to  take  out  the  pews.  I  wondered  what 
was  going  to  happen,  and  listened  attentively  to 
their  talk.  I  soon  discovered  another  change  a- 
waited  me.  I  was  to  be  made  into  an  "  armory." 
What  a  life  they  do  lead  me!  I  thought;  but  still  I 
had  rather  wear  out  than  rust  out. 

All  appearance  of  a  church  disappeared.     A  nice 


86  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

hard  wood  floor  was  laid  down,  and  soon  I  began 
to  present  a  very  war-like  appearance.  Soldiers' 
accoutrements  were  placed  about  my  walls,  and  my 
floor  resounded  to  the  martial  tread  of  armed  men. 
I  was  now  an  "  armory,"  and  should  have  been 
rather  proud,  only  I  remembered  my  experience  as 
"  church."  An  entire  change  now  took  place  in 
my  life. 

Instead  of  religious  services,  dances  and  merry- 
makings were  in  order.  I  will  admit  I  was  shocked 
at  first,  at  the  idea  of  turning  a  church  into  a  danc- 
ing hall,  but  soon  found  out  I  was  old-fashioned  in 
my  notions,  and  resigned  myself  to  my  fate. 

During  the  time  I  was  an  "  armory,"  I  was  fre- 
quently used  for  other  things.  Ice  cream  festivals, 
sewing  circles,  sociables,  etc.,  but  the  most  surpris- 
ing thing  of  all,  was  the  roller  skating.  The  jars 
and  severe  treatment  I  received  by  those  people, 
was  something  awful,  and  the  noise  nearly  made 
me  crazy.  I  was  only  too  thankful  when  it  was 
decided  to  go  where  there  was  more  room. 

I  should  have  had  a  very  dull  time  after  that,  on- 
ly for  some  musical  rehearsals,  which  I  enjoyed 
very  much. 

One  day  as  I  was  thinking  over  the  past,  and  re- 
gretting that  I  could  not  be  made  more  useful  in  my 


7'//<-  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  87 

old  age,  I  heard  some  men  come  in.  They  com- 
menced to  take  down  the  guns  and  other  soldierly 
equipments,  and  carry  them  out. 

"  What's  coming  now?  "  I  thought.  Again  I  lis- 
tened to  the  conversation,  and  was  astonished  to 
hear  I  was  going  to  be  a  "  public  library! " 

Workmen  soon  began  to  put  up  book-shelves, 
and  make  other  alterations,  to  fit  me  for  the  new 
position  I  was  to  occupy. 

I  think  the  painting  of  my  exterior  has  given  me 
more  pleasure  than  anything  that  has  been  done.  I 
was  getting  so  shabby  I  was  really  ashamed  of  my- 
self. The  color  is  so  suitable  for  my  age,  too,  "  neat 
but  not  gaudy." 

I  declare,  it  makes  me  feel  quite  chipper,  to  think 
I  am  to  have  such  an  honorable  position.  I  trust 
that  after  all  my  trying  experiences,  my  last  days 
may  be  passed  as  a  library,  but  after  what  I  have 
been  through,  I  am  prepared  for  anything. 

THE  OLD  ACADEMY. 


THE  DRIVE  AROUND  THE  GORE. 

Who  that  has  taken  the  drive  around   the  Gore 
does  not    remember   it   with    pleasure?     We    leave 


88  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

the  village  by  Middle  street.  The  road  is  gradually 
ascending  until  we  reach  the  "  Bush  farm."  From 
this  point,  the  view  is  exceedingly  lovely.  On  the 
left  is  the  Pilot  range,  towering  over  the  interven- 
ing hills.  These  mountains  seem  to  be  a  favorite 
ground  for  shadows,  and  from  here  the  mantle  of 
spotted  light  and  shade  that  envelop  them,  is  admir- 
ably displayed.  In  front,  the  road  can  be  seen 
winding  along  for  some  distance,  bordered  on  either 
side  with  pleasant,  homelike  looking  houses.  On 
the  right  are  the  undulating  meadows  of  Israel's 
river,  whose  circuitous  course  can  be  easily  traced 
through  the  green  verdure,  by  the  trees  and  bushes 
that  overhang  its  banks.  This  little  valley  is  one 
of  the  pleasantest  places  in  Lancaster — shut  in  on 
either  side  by  hills,  piled  together  in  every  way  that 
is  picturesque. 

We  soon  pass  on  our  left,  the  "  Freeman  place," 
originally  the  home  of  Samuel  White,  father  of 
Nathaniel  White,  who  left  his  home  at  an  early  age, 
for  Concord,  N.  H.  Arriving  there  with  only  one 
shilling  in  his  pocket,  by  industry,  economy  and 
temperance,  he  accumulated  a  large  fortune. 

We  drive  along  the  smooth,  hard  road,  passing^ 
on  the  left  by  the  "  Weeks  place,"  a  long  row  of 
tamarack  trees,  which  were  set  out  many  years  ago 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  89 

b\-  Mr.  Ilc-mminway,  a  former  owner  of  the  place. 
On  our  right  is  the  little  brick  house,  known  for 
many  years  as  the  "  W hippie  place."  The  brick- 
yard, which  used  to  be  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
road,  has  disappeared. 

On  we  go,  passing  the  pleasant  homes  of  the 
Spauldings,  crossing  the  bridge  over  the  "  great 
brook,"  we  ascend  the  hill  by  the  "  Smith  place." 
On  the  right  is  a  charming  view  of  Mt.  Prospect 
and  Pleasant,  and  the  farm-houses  and  orchards,  on 
the  south  road  leading  to  Jefferson. 

Passing  the  Stalbird  and  Savage  places,  we  ar- 
rive at  the  "  Cummings  farm,"  where  the  road 
curves  to  the  left.  On  the  right  is  a  grand  and  ex- 
tensive view.  Beyond  the  swells  and  rolls  of  land, 
Jefferson  Mills  is  seen,  somewhat  to  the  left  are  the 
houses  of  Jefferson  Hill,  and  rising  above  all,  the 
glistening  summits  of  the  White  Mountains. 

The  north  road  can  be  seen  the  whole  distance, 
and  the  cleared  land,  patches  of  grain  and  corn  on 
the  slope  and  base  of  the  Pilot  range,  all  making  a 
beautiful  landscape  picture  of 

"  Cultivated  slopes,  and  tracts  of  forest  ground  and  scattered 

groves, 
And  mountains  bare,  or  clothed  with  ancient  forests." 

Before  reaching  the  "  Stillings  place,"  the  road  is 


9° 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 


bordered  on  either  side  for  some  distance  with  beau- 
tiful maple  trees.  Whoever  planted  them,  deserves 
to  be  gratefully  remembered.  Leaving  the  road  to 
Jefferson,  we  are  on  the  direct  way  around  the 
Gore. 

Very  soon  we  enter  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
pieces  of  woods  in  Lancaster.  The  road,  white  and 
hard,  stretches  away  like  the  aisle  of  a  cathedral, 
and  is  lost  beneath  the  leafy  arches  of  maple  and 
beech. 

Emerging  from  this  lovely  place,  and  crossing  a 
little  bridge  that  spans  another  portion  of  the  great 
brook,  Garland's  mills  are  seen  on  the  left,  and  we 
presently  pass  a  neat  cottage  house,  recently  erected 
by  E.  C.  Garland,  who  is  experimenting  in  hatch- 
ing chickens  by  artificial  incubation. 

Driving  on,  we  presently  pass  a  beautiful  maple 
grove  on  the  hillside  at  the  left,  known  as  "  Pilot 
Heights  Grove,"  a  favorite  place  for  picnics. 

On  the  right,  beyond  the  cultivated  land,  are  acres 
of  primeval  forest,  as  yet  untouched  by  the  ax  of  the 
woodman.  Above  and  beyond  these  woods,  Percy 
Peaks  and  Cape  Horn  are  boldly  outlined  against 
the  sky. 

Passing  the  Plaisted  and  Stockwell  farms,  we 
hear  the  hum  of  a  saw-mill,  and  very  soon  we  see 


Tltf  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  91 

on  the  right  Stockwell's  mills  and  the  Grange. 
Another  mile  brings  us  into  the  "out  east  "  road 
just  by  the  "  Week's  place."  From  here  we  return 
on  the  same  road  by  which  we  left  the  village,  and 
finish  our  delightful  drive,  just  as 

"  Slowly  o'er  the  pleasant  landscape 
Falls  the  evening's  dusk  and  coolness." 


THE  FARRAR  HOUSE  MYSTERY. 

The  house  in  which  the  following  remarkable 
event  occurred,  was  situated  on  the  spot  where  the 
Catholic  parsonage  now  stands,  and  was  known  as 
the  Farrar  house. 

It  is  only  a  few  years  since  this  house,  which  was 
a  large  two-story  building,  was  taken  down,  and 
there  are  many,  now  living  in  town,  who  knew  the 
Farrar  family,  but  as  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  as- 
certain, the  only  one  now  living  in  the  village,  who 
was  here  in  1818,  the  year  in  which  this  incident 
transpired,  is  Mrs.  Allen  Smith,  who  was  a  girl  of 
eighteen  at  that  time,  and  was  teaching  school  here. 
She  was  familiar  with  the  whole  affair,  and  I  am 
indebted  to  her  for  the  following  account. 

At  the  time  I  am  writing  of,  this  house  was  occu- 


92  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book, 

pied  by  Deacon  Farrar  and  wife,  a  young  man  by 
name  of  George  Kibby,  a  relative  of  Mrs.  Farrar's, 
and  a  young  girl,  Hannah  Nute,  who  assisted  Mrs. 
Farrar  about  the  housework.  She  was  a  small, 
delicate  looking  girl,  with  very  pretty  blue  eyes, 
and  brown  hair. 

Deacon  Farrar,  as  his  name  indicates,  was  deacon 
of  the  Congregational  church,  a  lawyer  by  profes- 
sion, and  had  for  some  years  been  clerk  of  the  court. 
He  was  a  small,  spare  man,  very  agreeable  and 
pleasant  in  his  manners.  Besides  discharging  his 
duties  as  deacon,  he  was  also  a  member  of  the  choir, 
and  played  upon  a  very  large  bass  viol. 

Mrs.  Farrar  was  a  tall,  thin  woman,  with  dark 
hair,  which  she  wore  arranged  in  little  curls  at  each 
side  of  her  face;  and  she  always  wore  a  turban- 
shaped  cap,  which  gave  her  a  very  majestic  appear- 
ance. She  was  very  dignified  in  her  manners,  and 
a  little  inclined  to  be  aristocratic ;  but  a  most  excel- 
lent woman,  and  a  devout  member  of  the  church. 

Hannah  Nute  occupied  a  bedroom  on  the  ground 
floor  and  opening  out  of  the  kitchen,  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  family  slept  up-stairs.  One  night  Han- 
nah was  awakened  by  hearing  a  loud  rap  under 
her  bed.  She  was  much  startled,  but  thinking  it 
might  be  the  rats  in  the  cellar,  was  just  going  to 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  93 

sleep,  when  she  was  again  disturbed  by  hearing 
three  distinct  raps  in  the  same  place.  Thoroughly 
aroused  and  frightened,  she  jumped  from  her  bed, 
ran  through  the  kitchen  to  the  hall,  and  up  the  stairs, 
calling,  "  Oh!  Mrs.  Farrar,  Mrs.  Farrar,"  as  she  fell 
almost  fainting  at  her  chamber  door. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Hannah,  by  giving  me  such 
a  fright?  I  thought  the  house  was  on  fire,"  said 
Mrs.  Farrar,  opening  the  door. 

"  There  is  some  one  under  my  bed,"  said  Hannah, 
gasping  for  breath. 

"  What  nonsense,  you  have  been  dreaming." 

"  Oh,  no!  I  wan't  asleep,  and  they  rapped  three 
times  very  loud  on  the  floor." 

"  Oh,  Hannah,  lam  surprised  that  you  should  be  so 
foolish,  but  come,  I  will  go  down  with  you  and  look 
under  your  bed." 

"  Oh,  hadn't  you  better  get  the  deacon  to  go  and 
look,  I  am  sure  some  one  is  there?"  but  Mrs. 
Farrar  was  already  half  way  down  stairs,  and  with 
fear  and  trembling,  Hannah  followed  her.  Mrs.  Far- 
rar stopped  in  the  kitchen  and  lighted  a  candle  by  the 
coals  that  were  still  brightly  glowing  on  the  hearth, 
and  going  into  Hannah's  room  looked  under  the 
bed.  Hannah  had  not  ventured  into  the  room. 

u  Come  here  and    look    for    yourself.     Now  are 


94  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

you  convinced  you  were  dreaming?"  said  Mrs. 
Farrar,  as  Hannah  stepped  into  the  room.  Just  at 
that  moment,  three  distinct  raps  came,  apparently 
from  beneath  the  girl's  feet. 

She  gave  a  loud  scream  and  ran  into  the  kitchen, 
Mrs.  Farrar  following  rather  quickly  for  her. 

"  Oh,  some  one  is  in  the  cellar,  do  call  the  deacon," 
said  Hannah. 

Just  then  George  Kibby,  who  had  been  awakened 
by  Hannah's  screams,  came  rushing  into  the  kitchen, 
calling  out,  "What  is  the  matter?"  closely  followed 
by  the  deacon,  who  said,  "  Why,  wife!  what  is  this 
commotion?  " 

Mrs.  Farrar  explained  the  cause  of  this  unusual 
excitement,  and  as  if  to  corroborate  her  statement, 
there  came  a  succession  of  loud  raps  on  the  kitchen 
floor. 

"  There,"  screamed  Hannah. 

"  This  is  really  alarming,"  said  Mrs.  Farrar. 

"  I  will  soon  find  out  what  is  making  this  disturb- 
ance," said  the  deacon,  taking  the  long  iron  fire- 
shovel  in  one  hand,  and  the  candlestick  in  the  other, 
and  starting  for  the  cellar  door.  George  took  the 
tongs  and  followed,  Mrs.  Farrar  brandishing  a 
broom,  and  Hannah,  with  a  big  stick  of  wood, 
brought  up  the  rear.  The  cellar  was  thoroughly 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  95 

searched,  hut  nothing  was  discovered. 

By  this  time  they  were  all  very  much  alarmed. 
A  tire  was  built  in  the  kitchen,  and  they  gathered 
around  it  to  talk  the  matter  over. 

"Deacon,"  said  Mrs.  Farrar,  "  I  think  it  is  a 
warning.  I  have  heard  of  such  things." 

"  I  think  that  the  house  is  haunted,"  said 
George. 

"  Well,"  said  the  deacon,  "  it  is  certainly  a  singu- 
lar and  startling  phenomenon,  and  I  think  George 
had  better  go  for  Parson  Willard." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  best,"  said  Mrs.  Farrar. 

Meanwhile  the  rapping  continued  at  short  inter- 
vals. Hannah  became  almost  prostrated  with  fright, 
the  neighbors  were  sent  for,  and  in  the  early  morn- 
ing the  parson  came;  he  could  offer  no  explanation 
for  the  remarkable  disturbance. 

It  was  thought  proper  under  the  circumstances  to 
hold  a  religious  service,  the  great  family  Bible  was 
brought  from  the  parlor,  and  a  portion  of  the  Script- 
ures read,  and  prayers  offered,  but  still  the  raps 
were  heard. 

A  thorough  investigation  of  the  house  and  cellar 
was  made,  and  the  blinds  on  the  outside  examined; 
but  nothing  could  be  found  to  throw  the  least  light 
on  this  mysterious  rapping.  It  was,  however,  as- 


96  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

certained  that  the  raps  only  came  in  the  room  where 
Hannah  was,  and  seemed  to  follow  her;  some  per- 
sons thought  she  must  in  some  way  cause  them.  As 
the  days  went  by  and  there  was  no  cessation  of 
this  rapping,  the  whole  town  became  excited ;  the 
house  was  thronged  with  people  from  this,  and  the 
adjoining  towns,  who  came  to  visit  the  "  haunted 
house." 

As  many  of  the  people  in  the  village  were  of  the 
opinion  that  Hannah  Nute  must  in  some  way  cause 
the  raps,  it  was  decided  to  have  her  watched,  and 
four  of  the  leading  men  of  the  town  were  appoint- 
ed as  an  investigating  committee.  They  tied  the 
girl's  hands  and  feet,  and  laid  her  on  a  bed,  they 
then  sat  down  by  her,  two  on  each  side  of  the  bed. 
In  that  way  she  was  watched  for  a  day  and  night, 
but  meanwhile  the  raps  were  heard,  on  the  walls 
and  floor,  and  even  on  the  bedstead,  but  only  in  the 
room  where  Hannah  was. 

The  committee  decided  that  they  could  not  in  any 
way  account  for  the  raps.  Some  of  the  people 
thought  it  was  a  warning  to  the  family  of  some 
misfortune  that  would  shortly  follow,  while  others 
said  it  must  be  the  work  of  the  devil.  The  knowl- 
edge of  knowing  that  she  was  suspected  of  making 
the  raps,  had  made  Hannah  quite  ill,  and  she  beg- 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  97 

ged  to  be  sent  away.  On  the  day  she  left  the  house, 
the  raps  were  more  frequent  than  they  had  been, 
and  as  she  passed  through  the  hall  to  the  door, 
seemed  to  follow  her,  and  came  with  great  force  on 
the  floor,  but  that  was  the  last  of  the  raps,  whatever 
it  was  that  caused  them,  whether 

"Good  spirits  or  bad, 
Black  spirits  or  white," 

seemed  to  leave  the  house  when  Hannah  did. 

Deacon  Farrar  and  family  occupied  the  house  for 
many  years  after,  and  never  were  troubled  by  a 
repetition  of  this  remarkable  occurrence,  which  has 
always  remained  unexplained,  and  the  rappings  at 
the  Farrar  house  are  still  spoken  of  as  a  great  mys- 
tery. 


THE  DRIVE  TO  THE  TOP  OF  MT.  PROSPECT. 

The  drive  to  the  top  of  Mount  Prospect  is  very 
pleasant,  and  easily  and  safely  accomplished  by  the 
good  carriage- road,  that  has  been  made  quite  to  the 
top  by  VV.  H.  Smith,  who  has  built  a  comfortable 
hotel,  large  enough  to  accommodate  thirty-five 
guests,  on  the  summit  of  this  mountain. 


98  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Leaving  the  village  by  the  Sand  Hill,  we  drive 
along  the  Whitefield  road  for  a  mile  and  a  half, 
when  we  take  a  road  leading  to  the  left.  Another 
half  mile  brings  us  to  the  little  toll-house  at  the  foot 
of  the  mountain,  from  here  to  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain the  distance  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile.  The 
first  of  the  way  is  only  slightly  ascending;  as  we 
go  on,  we  come  to  some  steep  pitches,  but  our  horses 
have  no  difficulty  in  taking  us  safely  over  them. 
The  road  winds  in  such  a  way  that  the  house  is  not 
visible  until  we  turn  the  last  curve,  when  we  come 
right  upon  it.  The  genial  landlord,  Mr.  W.  H. 
Smith,  stands  on  the  steps  to  receive  us,  and  we  are 
soon  landed  on  the  broad  piazza. 

Mount  Prospect  is  2090  feet  above  tide-water, 
1240  feet  above  Lancaster  village.  From  the  front 
piazza  of  the  hotel  we  see  in  the  foreground  Cher- 
ry Mountain  and,  beyond,  the  whole  Presidential 
range,  crowned  in  the  center  by  the  dome  of  Mt. 
Washington.  The  belts  of  pine,  and  farther  up,  the 
gorges  and  ravines  that  sear  the  mountain's  sides, 
are  easily  discerned.  The  railway  and  Summit 
House  on  Mt.  Washington  can  be  readily  dis- 
tinguished without  the  aid  of  a  telescope.  On  the 
right  we  look  down  on  Mt.  Pleasant,  Mt.  Orne  and 
Martin  meadow  pond,  glistening  like  a  great  mir- 


/'//(•   Lancaster   SAt-/i-/t    />ii<>£.  99 

ror  in  a  setting  of  green  hills  that  hem  it  in  on  all 
sides.  Just  between  these  mountains,  but  far  in  the 
distance,  can  be  seen  the  tapering  spire  of  a  church 
in  Lunenburg.  Turning  towara  the  north-west, 
\\  r  see  the  broad  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  whose 
course  can  be  traced  for  forty  miles  in  sweeping 
curves  through  the  luxuriant  intervals  and  by  hills 
clothed  with  forests,  as  with  stately  grace  it  flows 
down  to  the  sea.  Just  in  the  foreground  are  the 
farms  of  Howe,  Hodgdons,  and  the  Daniel  Stebbins' 
place,  now  known  as  the  "  Smith  farm."  The 
patches  of  corn,  grain,  groves  of  maple  and  pine, 
the  farm-houses  shaded  by  apple-trees,  and  farther 
on  beyond  the  rolling  hills,  the  village  of  Lancaster, 
cosily  situated  in  the  valley  below,  all  make  a 
beautiful  picture.  One  might  almost  imagine,  as 
they  gaze  down  upon  this  scene  of  peace,  plenty 
and  purity,  that  it  was  some  nook  of  primitive  Eden, 
but  "  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view." 

Six  villages,  four  hundred  farms,  and  thirteen 
ponds,  can  be  seen  from  the  top  of  Mount  Pros- 
pect, all  surrounded  by  a  mighty  chain  of  mountains 
seven  hundred  miles  in  length.  It  is  quite  impos- 
sible for  us  to  describe  the  extensive  panorama  of 
charming  views  that  are  presented  from  this  mount- 
ian.  The  outlook  is  grand  in  everv  direction.  In 


TOO  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

order  to  fully  enjoy  the  trip,  one  should  remain 
over  night  and  witness  the  gorgeous  beauties  of  the 
sunset  and  sunrise. 

We  see  no  reason  why  "  Hotel  Prospect"  should 
not  become  a  favorite  resort.  The  cool  bracing  air 
will  bring  healing  to  the  invalid,  and  the  marvelous 
beauty  of  the  view  afford  peace  and  rest  to  the 
weary. 

The  drive  down  the  mountain  and  to  the  village 
is  quickly  accomplished,  as  it  is  nearly  all  the  way 
descending.  The  sun  is  just  sinking  behind  the 
Vermont  hills,  shedding  a  golden  splendor  over  the 
meadows,  and  tinging  the  Pilot  range  and  Percy 
Peaks  with  rose-color,  as  we  drive  down  Sand  Hill 
into  the  village. 


GREAT  GRANDMA'S   CARPET. 

The  following  sketch,  although  written  in  the 
form  of  a  story,  is  strictly  true.  The  grand-mother 
•was  Mrs.  Persis  Everett,  wife  of  Judge  Everett, 
and  the  carpet  was  made  for  a  room  in  what  is  now 
known  as  the  "  Cross  house."  The  writer  has  seen 
pieces  of  the  carpet. 

"  Mother,"   said  Annie    Belmont,   "  It  is  a  lovely 


Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  101 

morning.  Don't  \<>u  want  to  go  clown  to  Porter  & 
(J  ray's  ami  choose  our  new  carpets?  You  know 
we  must  get  them  clown  before  cousin  Dora  comes 
next  week." 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  with  you;  but  I  must  write  some 
letters  first.  I  will  be  ready  in  an  hour." 

"  Annie,"  said  Grandma  Belmont,  who  was  sit- 
ting by  the  fire  knitting,  "  while  your  mother  is 
writing,  don't  you  want  me  to  tell  you  how  my 
mother  got  a  carpet?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  grandma!  You  know  there  is  noth- 
ing I  like  so  well  as  having  you  tell  an  old-fashioned 
story." 

u  Well,  my  dear,  you  know,  seventy-five  years 
ago,  carpets  were  not  very  common.  Very  few 
people  had  them.  There  was  none  made  in  this 
country,  and  an  English  carpet  was  very  expensive." 

"  What  did  you  have  on  the  floors,  grandma?  " 

"  Nothing — not  even  paint;  but  they  were  scoured 
white  as  sand  could  make  them.  My  mother  had 
only  one  carpet  in  the  house,  and  that  was  on  the 
parlor  floor.  It  was  a  green  and  black  English  car- 
pet. I  suppose  my  mother  made  the  first  carpet 
that  was  ever  manufactured  in  New  Hampshire,  or 
even  in  New  England.  Your  great-grandfather 
was  a  lawyer,  and,  at  that  time,  Lancaster  was  not 


IO2  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

a  shire  town;  the  courts  were  held  at  Haverhill. 
But  after  a  while,  Lancaster  was  made  a  shire  town. 
When  father  came  home  from  the  spring  term  of 
court  at  Haverhill,  he  said  the  next  fall  the  court 
would  sit  in  Lancaster,  and  as  there  was  no  suitable 
place  for  the  judges  to  board,  he  had  promised  to 
take  them  in.  They  used  to  have  three  judges — 
the  chief  justice  and  two  side  judges.  I  am  sure  I 
don't  know  what  they  were  called  side  judges  for, 
unless  it  was  because  one  sat  on  each  side  of  the 
judge  who  attended  to  all  the  business.  I  have  of- 
ten been  into  court  with  father,  and  I  never  heard 
one  say  a  word.  They  just  sat  there  and  looked 
wise.  Mother  was  surprised  enough  when  father 
said  he  was  going  to  board  the  judges. 

'  Why,  father,'  she  said,  '  what  are  you  thinking 
of?  There  is  not  room  enough  in  the  house.' 

'  No,'  said  father,  '  but  there  will  be  by  fall.  I 
am  going  to  have  an  addition  of  two  rooms  built  on 
to  the  house.' 

'  I  don't  see,'  said  mother,  '  how  we  can  get  car- 
pets; but  if  you  are  going  to  have  the  judges  board 
here,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done.' 

It  was  not  very  long  before  father  had  some  men 
at  work  on  the  new  rooms,  and  mother  began  to 
think  something  must  be  done  about  the  carpets. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  103 

So  she  went  up  to  see  Eunice  Stockwell,  and  talked 
it  over  with  her.  She  was  the  best  hand  to  weave 
tlK-rc  \\  :is  anywhere  round. 

We  had  lots  of  sheep  and  plenty  of  wool,  so 
mother  took  forty  pounds  and  had  it  carded  into 
rolls.  Then  she  got  Nancy  Greenleaf  and  Lucy 
White  to  come  and  spin  it. 

It  was  spun  into  good  strong  yarn,  four  skeins  to 
a  pound.  I  was  a  little  girl,  but  it  seems  to  me  I 
can  see  Nancy  and  Lucy  now,  just  as  they  looked 
spinning.  They  had  their  wheels  up  in  the  great 
open  chamber.  It  was  in  summer  time,  and  the 
windows  were  open  at  each  end  of  the  room.  I 
used  to  go  up  there  and  sit  on  an  old  chest  by  the 
window,  and  watch  them  spin.  Nancy  was  tall 
and  slim,  and  had  light  hair,  which  she  wore  done 
up  in  a  little  ball  on  the  top  of  her  head,  fastened 
with  a  big  comb.  She  wore  her  dresses  quite  short, 
and  as  she  stepped  back  and  forth  turning  her  wheel, 
she  was  always  singing.  I  never  heard  her  vary 
the  tune  or  words: 

"  Come,  Philander,  let's  be  marching.' 

She  would  come  down  heavy  on  the  '  ching.' 
Who  Philander  was,  or  where  he  was  going  to 
march,  I  never  could  find  out.  I  used  to  ask  her  to 
sing  some  more,  but  she  said  that  was  all  she  knew. 


1 04  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Lucy  was  a  real  pretty  girl;  she  had  black  eyes 
and  red  cheeks;  she  used  to  make  fun  of  Nancy 
and  her  song.  Well,  in  a  few  weeks,  the  spinning 
was  all  done;  then  mother  had  the  yarn  carried  up 
to  Eunice  Stockwell  to  be  woven,  and  before  long 
it  was  sent  home — a  great  roll  of  white  flannel. 
Then  it  had  to  be  carried  to  Haverhill,  to  be  fulled 
and  colored.  It  was  about  thirty  miles  to  Haver- 
hill,  and  the  only  way  to  go  was  on  horseback. 
Job,  who  was  one  of  the  hired  men,  packed  it  on  to 
a  horse,  and  started  with  it. 

Meantime,  mother  had  been  coloring  yarn — red, 
yellow,  green  and  blue.  She  had  to  make  all  her 
dyes  herself,  but  she  had  some  bright,  handsome 
colors.  I  remember  how  pretty  it  looked,  hanging 
out  on  the  line  drying. 

After  a  while,  the  cloth  came  home — three  great 
rolls  of  dark  brown,  heavy  cloth.  Then  it  was  cut 
into  breadths,  the  length  of  the  room,  and  mother 
and  Aunt  Betsy  marked  them  off  into  squares,  about 
a  foot  each  way,  so  they  would  match  when  it  was 
sewed  together. 

In  each  square  was  a  large  star.  It  was  worked 
in  what  you  call  Kensington  stitch.  That's  noth- 
ing but  just  the  old-fashioned  marking  stitch.  The 
squares  were  worked  in  green,  the  stars  in  yellow,. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  105 

and  in  each  point  of  the  stars  were  little  stars,  worked 
in  different  colors;  and  so  the  whole  carpet  was 
made  by  hand.  It  was  real  handsome  when  it  was 
done.  Folks  came  from  all  around  to  see  it." 

"  How  I  wish  I  could  have  seen  it,  grandma! 
Think  of  working  a  whole  carpet  by  hand!  I  have 
been  nearly  all  winter  doing  a  table-spread.  But 
how  did  they  get  the  furniture  for  the  rooms?" 

"  Father  started  for  Portland  on  horse-back — 
that  was  the  nearest  place  where  furniture  could  be 
bought." 

"  How  far  was  it,  grandma?  " 

"  A  hundred  miles,  and  most  of  the  way  through 
the  woods.  But  there  was  a  good  road,  and  teams 
always  going  and  coming. 

Father  told  mother  to  send  Job  along  with  the 
ox-team,  after  he  had  been  gone  two  days.  Father 
got  home  several  days  before  Job,  but  at  last  he 
came  with  a  big  load  of  things. 

There  were  two  high-posted  bed-steads,  looking- 
glasses,  tables  and  chairs,  but  what  I  thought  was 
nicest  of  all,  were  two  great  bell-metal  basins." 

"  What  were  they  for?  " 

"  They  were  to  fill  the  place  of  the  earthern 
wash-bowls  we  have  nowadays.  None  were  to  be 
had  then.  Bell-metal  and  pewter  basins  were  used 
instead. 


106  The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book, 

Well,  the  rooms  looked  very  nice  when  they  were 
done.  Mother  put  up  some  green  and  white  checked 
bed-curtains,  home-made,  out  of  flax  and  wool,  and 
trimmed  with  yellow  fringe. 

When  court  set,  in  November,  the  judges  came 
to  our  house,  and  always  after  for  every  term  of 
court  for  many  years. 

Now,  all  you  have  to  do  when  you  want  a  car- 
pet, is  to  go  to  the  store  and  select  it;  but  I  am  sure 
you  can  never  have  one  you  can  feel  half  so  proud 
of  as  mother  did  of  hers." 

"  Come,  Annie,"  said  Mrs.  Belmont,  entering  the 
room,  with  her  bonnet  on,  "  lam  ready  to  go  now." 

"  Thank  you,  grandma,  for  your  story.  I  am 
afraid  I  have  lost  some  of  my  interest  in  buying  the 
new  carpets.  I  wish  we  could  make  some,  as  my 
great-grandma  did." 


THE  DRIVE  OVER  PAGE  HILL. 

The  drive  over  Page  Hill  to  the  Northumberland 
road,  returning  by  the  Beattie  pine  woods,  a  dis- 
tance of  seven  miles,  is  probably  less  frequented 
than  any  in  this  vicinity.  One  reason  is  no  doubt 
owing  to  the  road,  which  is  in  some  places  rather 


The  Lancaster  Sketch   Book.  107 

rough,  but  chiefly  because  the  scenery  in  that  local- 
itv  is  not  -upposcil  t<>  l>e  very  attractive,  at  least  that 
i>  what  \ve  thought  until  recently,  when  on  one 
pleasant  afternoon,  when  the  sunshine  was  tempered 
by  a  gentle  west  wind,  and  a  shower  had  laid  the 
dust  and  made  grass  and  foliage  wear  a  fresher  green, 
\ve  took  this  drive  over  Page  Hill. 

We  leave  the  village  by  North  street,  and,  after 
crossing  the  railroad  track,  take  the  road  leading  to 
the  right.  A  few  rods  brings  us  to  the  house  of 
Mr.  John  W.  Stevens,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  hill. 
Page  Hill  derives  its  name  from  Mr.  David  Page, 
one  of  the  first  settlers  of  the  town,  and  who  was 
the  first  owner  of  this  land.  This  hill  is  not  very 
steep,  and  we  soon  reach  the  top.  Looking  back 
toward  the  west,  we  get  a  lovely  view  of  the  Con- 
necticut, winding  its  devious  way  through  the  green 
meadows.  As  we  go  on,  we  pass  on  the  right,  the 
farm  of  Mr.  George  H.  Stalbird.  A  field  of  ripen- 
ing oats,  golden  in  the  afternoon  sunshine,  make  a 
pleasant  contrast  with  the  brighter  green  of  the  sur- 
rounding fields.  On  the  left,  beyond  the  cultivated 
fields,  pastures  and  wood-lots,  are  the  green  hills  of 
Vermont.  Now  we  come  to  the  Moore  place,  and 
pass  on  the  right,  an  orchard,  the  trees  loaded  with 
apples.  Just  here  we  notice  a  road  on  the  left, 


io8  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

which  leads  to  the  "  Goodale  farm."  After  passing 
the  homes  of  Messrs.  Willard  and  John  Moore,  the 
road  is  not  very  good,  as  it  is  but  little  used  Leyond 
this  point.  Another  mile  brings  us  to  the  old  Dan- 
iel Spaulding  place.  Mr.  Spaulding,  the  original 
owner  of  this  farm,  was  the  son  of  Mrs.  Phebe 
Spaulding,  a  woman  renowned  for  her  courage  and 
determination.  The  old  house  is  only  a  ruin,  and 
the  land  is  owned  by  Mr.  Horace  Holton  and  oth- 
ers. Of  the  once  large  orchard,  only  a  few  trees  re- 
main, and  there  is  but  little  to  indicate  that  this  was 
once  a  thrifty  farm.  Just  beyond  the  old  house  is  a 
great  flat  rock,  extending  nearly  across  the  road; 
just  here  we  will  leave  the  carriage,  and  fasten  our 
horse  to  the  fence,  beneath  the  shade  of  an  old  ap- 
ple tree;  then  passing  through  some  bars  on  the 
right,  we  walk  about  thirty  rods  through  the  field 
to  a  slight  elevation.  Ah!  does  not  this  gi'and  view 
repay  us?  In  the  foreground,  we  look  down  upon 
thousands  of  acres  of  primeval  forest,  beyond  that 
we  see  the  Gore,  Lost  Nation,  New  France,  or 
Parks'  Mills,  and  rising  above  all,  like  a  grand  frame 
for  this  beautiful  picture,  is  the  Pilot  range,  flecked 
with  shadows  from  the  soft  white  clouds  floating 
above  it.  The  cleared  land  and  fields  of  yellow 
grain,  extending  in  some  places  half  way  up  the 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  109 

mountain  sides,  the  farm  houses  and  mills,  all  con- 
trast pk-asantly  with  the  unbroken  forest.  Twen- 
ty-five years  ago,  where  we  now  look  down  upon 
thirty  fauns,  there  had  not  a  clearing  been  made, 
and  the  only  inhabitants  were  wolves  and  bears. 
Turning  to  the  right,  we  see  Mts.  Prospect  and 
Pleasant,  Stebbins  Hill,  Hodgdon  Hill,  and  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  houses  of  the  village  in  the  valley 
below.  To  the  left,  seemingly  almost  within  our 
reach,  are  the  Percy  Peaks  and  Mt.  Lyon.  From 
this  point  the  land  in  thirteen  towns  can  be  seen. 
Reluctantly  we  turn  away  from  this  charming  pros- 
pect, and  are  soon  driving  on.  Grass  is  growing  in 
the  road,  indicating  that  it  is  not  much  traveled,  and 
blackberry  bushes,  loaded  with  luscious  fruit,  bend 
temptingly  near  us.  Arching  boughs  of  golden  rod, 
and  bunches  of  purple  asters,  and  elder  bloom,  light 
up  the  way  side,  and  glow  in  patches  in  the  fields. 
The  land  on  either  side  of  the  road  is  rugged  and 
rocky,  but  occasionally  we  pass  a  field  of  oats  or 
corn,  charming  in  contrast  with  the  rugged  scenery 
by  its  side.  Over  hill  and  down  dale  we  go,  through 
a  wonderful  web  of  light  and  shade,  with  a  glimpse 
now  and  again  of  far  off  mountain  peaks,  or  undu- 
lating ranges  of  hills,  until  driving  down  a  hill  rather 
steeper  than  any  previous,  we  come  out  on  to  the 


no  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

Northumberland  road,  just  above  the  railroad  cross- 
ing. We  turn  to  the  left,  and  find  ourselves  on  a 
smooth,  level  road,  and  get  a  glimpse  of  the  silvery 
gleaming  of  the  Connecticut  through  the  trees  on 
the  right.  Very  soon  we  enter  the  pine  woods  and 
inhale  the  delightful  piney  odor  from  the  trees. 
Soon  we  pass  on  the  left  the  cozy  home  of  Captain 
Beattie,  and  a  little  farther  on  at  the  right,  is  the 
"  Bellows  Place,"  now  owned  by  Captain  Beattie. 
The  old  house,  that  has  been  the  scene  of  many 
happy  gatherings  and  merry  makings,  was  fast  fall- 
ing into  a  dilapidated  condition,  but  has  been  thor- 
oughly repaired  by  the  present  owner. 

We  recall  the  delightful  views  afforded  by  this 
drive,  we  regret  that  the  road  is  not  in  a  more  fav- 
orable condition,  if  it  was,  we  are  sure  this  would 
become  one  of  the  favorite  drives  in  this  vicinity. 
The  remark  made  by  a  Scotchman  in  regard  to  his 
own  mountainous  country,  applies  to  Coos  County 
admirably:  "  It's  a  grand  country.  If  it's  nae  great 
comfort  to  the  purse,  it's  aye  a  pleasure  to  the  e'e." 


The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book.  \  1 1 


THE  OLD  CEMETERY. 

Ti>  many  of  the  residents  of  Lancaster,  the  old 
graye-yard  is  a  sacred  spot.  There  are  none  of  the 
older  people  who  haye  not  followed  the  remains  of 
dear  ones  through  the  gate  and  up  the  hill  to  their 
last  resting  place. 

Recently  in  strolling  through  this  spot  where 

"  Each  in  his  narrow  cell  forever  laid, 
The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep," 

we  stopped  to  read  some  of  the  inscriptions,  that  in 
some  cases  furnish  facts  for  biography  and  history, 
which  the  cemeteries  of  our  day  will  afford  scant 
material,  as  the  monuments  of  a  recent  date,  do  not, 
in  some  cases,  impart  the  age  of  the  dead  and  only 
the  initials  of  the  name  are  used. 

In  publishing  some  of  the  inscriptions,  which  we 
copied  with  much  difficulty  from  the  moss  coyered 
stones,  that  time's  busy  fingers  will  soon  have  en- 
tirely effaced,  we  do  so  with  reverence,  thinking 
the  quaint  and  interesting  inscriptions  should  not  be 
entirely  lost. 

Within  a  small  enclosure,  lying  flat  on  the  ground, 
is  a  large  stone  bearing  the  two  following  inscrip- 
tions: 


H2  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

EMMONS  STOCKWELL, 

DIED    NOV.    8,    iSig,    IN    THE    78    YEAR    OF 
HIS     LIFE. 

One  of  the  first  settlers  of  this  town,  his  descendants  more  than  120. 
Honesty  and  industry  attended  him  through  life. 

Mark  the  perfect  man  and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  end  of  that 
man  is  peace. 

RUTH, 

WIFE    OF    EMMONS    STOCKWELL, 
DIED   MARCH    21,    1828. 

On  other  stones  in  various  parts  of  the   ground 
•were  found  the  following: 

MRS.  RACHEL, 

WIFE    OF    CAPT.    DAVID    PAGE, 
DIED    APRIL    28, 


MRS.  ELIZABETH   HUNNEX, 

WIFE    OF    SAMUEL     HUNNEX, 

DIED    l822,    AGED   63. 
The  last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed  is  death. 


IN      MEMORY    OF 

MRS.  MARY  BRACKETT, 

RELICT    OF    MR.   JOSEPH     BRACKETT, 
DIED  JULY    15,    1814,    AGED  70. 

In  active  usefulness,  Christian  meakness  and  patience  she  was  rarely 
surpassed. 


The  Lancaster  Sketch   Hook.  113 

REV.  JOSEPH    WILLARD, 

I'IKI)  JULY  22,   1827,  AGED   66    YEARS. 
For  *8  years  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Chxirch  of  this  town. 


JONAS  BAKER, 

DIED    FEB.    14,    1828. 
An  honest  man  is  the  noblest  work  of  God. % 


ERECTED    TO    THE    MEMORY    OF 

MRS.  BETSY  BAKER, 

CONSORT    OF  JONAS    BAKER    AND    ELDEST 

DAUGHTER    OF  JONAS    WILDER, 

DIED    IN    iSoi. 


STEPHEN   ROSEBROOK, 

SON    OF    JAMES    AND    PHEBK    ROSEBROOK. 
DIED    FEB.     17,    1815,    AGED    II     YEARS. 

Death  is  a  debt  to  nature  due, 
Which  1  have  paid  and  so  must  you, 
Depart  my  friends,  dry  up  your  tears, 
Here  I  must  lie  till  Christ  appears. 

SACRED  TO    THE  MEMORY    OF 

MARY, 

CONSORT    OF    STEPHEN    WILSON, 
WHO    DIED    FEB.    28,    1813,    AGED    45. 

Let  sorrow  change  to  sacred  mirth. 
Know  God  in  love  hath  given, 

The  pure  in  heart  who  mourn  on  earth. 
Perpetual  smile  in  Heaven. 


114  The  Lancaster  Sketch  Book. 

CHARLES   STUART, 

COUNSELLOR    AT    LAW, 
DIED    MAY    17,    1837,    AGED    46. 


JOHN  B.  ASPINWALL, 

DIED    MAY    25,   1833,  AGED    26. 

He's  gone  and  left  this  world  of  pain, 
This  dark  and  dismal  shore, 

We  only  part  to  meet  again, 
And  meet  to  part  no  more. 


IN    MEMORY      OF 

MR.  NICHOLAS  WHITE, 

WHO    DIED    MAY    jS,    1813,    AGED    54. 

Stop,  traveler,  as  you  pass  by, 
As  you  are  now,  so  once  was  I, 

As  I  am  now  so  you  must  be, 
Prepare  for  death  and  follow  me. 


ANDREW  ADAMS, 

DIED    APRIL    14,    1833,    AGED    97. 

The  graves  of  all  the  Saints  He  blessed, 

And  softened  every  bed, 
Where  should  the  dying  member  rest, 

But  with  the  dying  Head. 

This  monument  iserected    by   North  Star   Lodge  as  a  tribute  of  af- 
tVctionate  respect  to  the  memory  of  their  deceased  and  worthy  brother 

ARA  W.  BURNAP, 

WHO    DIED    UNIVERSALLY    ESTEEMED     AXD    RESPECTED, 
MARCH    21,    1813.    AGED    45. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


REMINGTON  RAND  INC.  2 


AR  18 1979 


213         (533) 


HY58  55*41   4701 


A    001  337  489 


